#not to talk about the fact that they don't look like Ellie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greenwitchfromthewoods · 16 days ago

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the smallest room. l Joel Miller

Summary: despite the quarrels you were a family

Warnings: fluff, some angst, Ellie and Joel arguing, parenting worries, some swearing, some tears, Reader is pregnant,

A/N: .

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The moment you walked through the door, you found yourself in the middle of an argument. The atmosphere was tense. Ellie stood in the middle of the living room with anger and irritation written all over her face, Joel standing in the other corner. He put his hands on his hips, frustration written all over his face.

“I’m going to be sixteen soon!” Ellie snapped, her cheeks reddening.

“But you’re not yet.” Joel replied firmly. “You’re too young for that!”

“Bullshit!” she snorted, folding her arms across her chest. At times, she looked almost exactly like Joel. “Dina’s already training. I want that too! Jesse…”

“Jesse’s not responsible for you!”

Your eyes shifted from one to the other. A silent witness to the fight that had been brewing for some time. Ellie really wanted to start training for the people who took part in the patrols. She had told you so many times, but she was afraid of Joel's reaction. He had tried to keep her away from such activities for as long as possible. However, when Dina and a few of her other friends started training, she wanted to participate as well, which was only logical.

The girl's dark eyes finally landed on you. They widened as if she was seeing you for the first time, but then she demanded.

"Tell him! Tell him what you think!"

"I..." you began uncertainly, but Joel cut you off.

"Leave her out of this. This is between you and me."

"Why?!" the girl snorted. "Her opinion counts too, right? Jesus! I told her that would be the case, that you wouldn't agree with me."

Joel quickly looked at you. His jaw clenched. “Have you talked about this?”

You nodded and seeing the disappointment in his eyes, you quickly added. “Joel, we should think about this. It could be useful. Ellie should-”

“I knew you’d take her side,” he snapped.

“W-what?” you asked. “I’m not on anyone’s side!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t pick on her!” Ellie hissed. “I told her because I knew how you’d react. She understands perfectly well that what I want to do is important and necessary.”

“You’re too young for this!”

“Bullshit!”

They looked at each other with anger and disappointment, and you stood in the middle, still in your jacket, completely unsure of what you were supposed to do. Eventually, Ellie moved from her place, grabbed her jacket and left, slamming the door.

Silence.

You slowly took off your jacket and threw it on the couch. You could feel the expectant gaze staring at you. You had to say something.

“Joel, Ellie wouldn’t want you to-” you started, but stopped when you looked at his face.

It was the face of a father. Worried, loving, disappointed, with a mix of emotions he couldn’t control. The love this man had for Ellie was indescribable and you knew that whatever he did, he did with her well-being and safety in mind.

“You could have told me earlier,” he said quietly. “If you had talked about this behind my back, you could have told me. I thought we were-”

“We are,” you cut him off. “But I won’t take sides, and don’t expect me to, Joel. I love you both, I’d give my life for you. I understand your arguments, but Ellie has a point too.”

Joel grimaced and rolled his eyes. You took a step toward him.

"Yes. She's right too." You repeated. "She'll be 16 soon. What her friends do is important to her. Ellie wants to be useful, self-sufficient, able to take care of herself. She doesn't have to go on patrol right away, but let her get some serious training, learn how to shoot, track, I don't know..."

"She's too young." Joel repeated, as if this argument had the power to overturn all yours.

"Ellie has to be able to take care of herself, Joel. That's a fact. And whatever we do, whatever we say..." you took a deep breath. "We can support her in this. Or she'll do it behind our backs anyway. It's our choice."

He stared at you, analyzing your words. Joel knew perfectly well that you hadn't done or said any of this against him. But he felt helpless. Your touch almost surprised him. You were standing so close, your hand gently tightening on his arm. "I don't want to argue, Joel," you said quietly. “This isn’t going anywhere.”

He sighed. “I know, baby. I know…” He brushed his lips against your forehead. “I’m glad I have you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ellie was furious with him, but Joel knew she had the right to feel that way and he understood. So when she finally showed up at home, he tried to do everything he could to avoid another fight, to explain his fears and concerns to her, so that she would finally understand. He didn't want anything bad for her, he worried about her and everything he did, he did for her.

However, Joel knew perfectly well that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to protect her for the rest of his life.

"I talked to Tommy." He said slowly, seeing the girl leaning against the wall, still tense. "You'll be able to take part in training." Ellie raised her head, looking at him in surprise. "Just training for now. When you can go outside Jackson, you'll do it with Tommy, Jesse or me. But you have to be trained."

“Are you serious?” she finally managed to say. “Can I really?”

He nodded. In an instant, her body was slamming into his as she hugged him tightly and snuggled into him. Ellie was beaming with happiness, he could feel it.

“It’ll take you some time. You have to be patient,” he said, trying to hide how her gesture affected him.

“I will!” she called. “I have to tell Dina!”

“It’s late.”

But Joel’s words were drowned out by the slam of the door and the girl’s footsteps on the porch. He felt her energy, felt her joy, and something heavy finally slid off his shoulders.

As he quietly slipped into the bedroom, he saw you sitting on the bed, reading a book. You lifted your head, looking at him with interest.

"And?"

He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt. "She ran to tell Dina. I hope I'm doing the right thing."

"Of course you are." You smiled. "You know, it's wonderful to watch you grow together. You both learn from each other."

Joel placed his shirt on the back of the chair and unbuckled his belt to change into something more comfortable. "It's easier when you have someone by your side." He said. "It's different now."

You didn't ask any more questions. You didn't have to know everything and you didn't drag him out of things he didn't necessarily want to talk about. Joel appreciated that.

"You're doing really great, you know." You closed the book and looked at him in a way that made Joel feel embarrassed. No one had ever told him that, and he wanted to hear it so badly.

"I hope so." he replied, sitting on the bed and sighing in relief as he felt your hand stroking his back.

The wall around Jackson was becoming more solid. New watchtowers were being built in places designated by the Miller brothers, and soon more people were being trained to defend the city. Spring was slowly approaching, and the upcoming changes in your home were becoming more noticeable. Your belly was already visible to everyone.

When you felt the first movements of your baby one morning, Joel needed a few minutes to find out from you what had brought you to tears. He sighed in relief, then placed his hand on your belly. The slight movement was clearly felt and Joel knew he would never forget it. Now touching this place had become a habit of his, it could take the weight of the whole day off his shoulders.

Finally, that one day came.

You both stood in the doorway of the small room that had long served as your storage room. It was a small bedroom with a window to the garden, lit by the golden rays of the sun.

"We can organize something here." Joel said, entering and looking around. "Paint the walls. Refresh the furniture."

“We don’t have a crib.” You noticed as you followed him in.

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, walking over to the window. His brain was already racing. He knew exactly what he wanted and what needed to be done. Knowing that he was preparing a nursery for his child was…exciting.

“This is all getting so serious.” Your quiet voice tore him out of his thoughts, from behind the plans for renovating this room. He turned around to see you sitting on the made bed, staring at your hands.

“What do you mean?” he asked, sitting down next to you.

“I guess everything.” You shrugged. “We have maybe four months left. I can’t fit into my pants anymore…”

“I like you in dresses.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “My body is changing, Joel. I never thought…” you let out a breath, trying to calm your voice. “When I lived in the zone, I saw pregnant women, but I never thought I’d experience something like this. All the fights and worries that we both know so well. It doesn’t go away that easily.”

“And it never will be.” Joel gently took your hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “But I know you’ll be a wonderful mother. You’re strong, brave, supportive, loving… You’ll give that baby everything.”

“I wish.” He saw a small tear roll down your cheek and it squeezed his heart.

He wanted you to see him through his eyes, to see yourself the way he saw you. Everything you’d been through had led you to this moment, and fuck, Joel was so grateful for that.

“When Sarah was born, I didn’t think I’d have to raise her by myself. Tommy and my mother, they were both so supportive, but I was the father. Sometimes at night she’d cry so much… I want to tell you that maybe the world we live in is fucked up, but we have each other. Right?”

“What if the baby cries at night and I don’t know what to do?”

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "We'll get through this, honey. Together."

A girl. It was a girl.

Joel felt his heart stop and then start beating like crazy. He didn't know what Morris saw on the screen as he examined you, but he seemed completely certain. You squeezed Joel's hand so hard that you dug your nails into the back of his hand.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your voice shaking.

"Yes." Morris smiled, not taking his eyes off the screen as he watched the baby carefully. "I can't give you a hundred percent, but a solid ninety might be enough."

You looked at Joel. His beautiful brown eyes were sparkling with tears. When he looked at you, you felt yours getting moist as well. He didn't tell you, but he had a feeling it was going to be a girl. Maybe he was destined to be the father of daughters.

"Can you believe it?" you asked as Morris walked away and Joel helped you sit up. "A girl!"

"I know." he took your face in his hands, kissing you tenderly. Tears glistened in his eyes. “The most important thing is that she’s healthy. And that you feel good.”

But the truth was, you couldn’t stop smiling. When you left the clinic, the world seemed a little more beautiful for a moment. You were in this together. As a family.

He quietly opened the door and quickly slipped inside. The rain soaked his hair and jacket, but the long package he had carefully wrapped in an old sheet seemed untouched. Joel listened for a moment, the house empty. You were probably still at Maria's, since you promised her you'd stay with Benji for a while. So he had to act quickly.

"Oh, shit! What happened here?"

Joel almost kicked the glue bucket when he heard Ellie's voice. The girl was standing in the doorway of the smallest bedroom, her eyes wide as she looked around the room. He hurried down the ladder.

"Isn't she here yet?" he asked, glancing quickly into the hallway behind the girl.

"No. But... What are you doing?"

Joel wiped his hands on his pants and nervously looked around the room. "I thought I'd surprise her and start the renovation already. Look." He led Ellie to the table where the package he'd brought earlier was lying. "I found it in the storage room. Do you think she'll like it?"

A wide smile spread across the girl's face. "Are you serious? She'll be so excited. And you'll do it all by yourself?"

Joel nodded. He knew you'd be happy to help him, but he wasn't going to let you. It would be quicker if he asked Tommy or anyone else, but Joel felt a strong urge to do it himself.

Ellie watched him go through the steps with precision, and even helped him a little. Unnecessary things were removed, the floor was swept. Joel was gathering his tools when he heard the door slam shut.

"It's her." He hissed, looking at Ellie in panic. "You have to keep her downstairs for a few more minutes. I beg you!"

Ellie quickly ran out of the room, her footsteps echoing up the stairs along with a loud "Hi! What's up?"

Joel didn't have much time. He quickly gathered his tools, folded the ladder and carried it out into the hallway. You shouldn't have seen all this yet, or maybe you should have just that he wasn't entirely sure if you'd like it.

"Ellie, I'm sorry, but I have to change." Your voice echoed down the stairs. "I'd like to put on something comfortable. Is Joel here yet?"

"Y-yeah, he is." The girl replied uncertainly and after a moment he heard your footsteps on the stairs.

The moment your eyes met his you froze immediately.

“What happened?” You asked.

He raised his eyebrows. “Why do you think something happened?”

“It’s written all over your face, Joel. I’ve known you for a while and I see things like this.” Your gaze fell on the toolbox. You gave Joel a pointed look.

He cleared his throat. He was clearly confused and uncertain, but he finally swallowed and said. “I’ve got something for you. I don’t know if you’ll like it, but…”

“Show her!” Ellie said loudly. “You’ll love it, I’m telling you.”

Joel nodded and you stepped closer. He pointed to the door handle, so you carefully grabbed it and opened the door. There was silence. He watched with a pounding heart as you entered, your gaze moving around the room, your eyes widening.

Shit. What if you didn’t like it? What if he did something wrong? Yes, he tried and everything, but what if…

“Do you like it?” he asked quietly when the silence became unbearable. “Sweetheart?”

You turned to him slowly, your eyes brimming with tears. This scared him even more.

“I found this wallpaper in the warehouse,” he said quickly, as if justifying himself, pointing to the pale pink wallpaper decorated with delicate roses. “This spot by the window will be perfect for a crib, and on the other side we’ll put an armchair. It’ll be more comfortable at night. There’ll be a changing table here,” he walked over to the shelf and opened the door. “I oiled the hinges, cleaned everything. I saw this nice night light, it would fit perfectly here.”

Joel was describing everything in the room to you, and your eyes followed him. After a moment, the dam broke and tears ran down your cheeks.

“Jesus, sweetheart! You don’t like it.”

In an instant, you walked up to him and, taking his face in your hands, kissed him. He felt your tears on his face, but they probably weren't sad.

"I think she likes it." Ellie said, standing in the doorway and looking at you with amusement. "She's been very emotional lately."

"Joel..." you sighed, pulling away from him and staring at him in awe. "It's so beautiful!"

"The wallpaper was a little dusty, but..."

"Fuck, I don't care!" you interrupted him abruptly. "This is fucking amazing! Did you do this all by yourself?"

He nodded towards Ellie. “With a little help.”

When Ellie finally got out of your arms, she decided she didn't want to watch you cry anymore and quickly left the house. You turned to Joel. He could see your swollen lips and puffy eyes perfectly, but you were smiling, so it didn't have to be that bad.

"Are you okay, honey?" he asked with concern, you nodded and took a deep breath.

"It's just too much emotion, you know. I've been a bit..."

"I know, I know..." he smiled, because your state was truly touching. Joel had the impression that you looked more and more beautiful with each passing day, and even at that moment there was something incredibly attractive about you.

"I didn't think I would ever do this again. But with you... With you everything makes sense."

You didn't answer, you just walked up to him. You reached out and stroked Joel's cheek, then leaned down to kiss him. You didn't need anything more, everything was clear.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @mandaloriankait @mmmunson @grace-928 @umadirectioner

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #short stories from life series

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meganegatari · 8 months ago

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THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST SO YUMMM so yeah🧍🏻‍♀️can you write something about streamer ellie <33

☆: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. definitelyyyy hasn't been...months...anyway. positive this is one of the worse things i've written, but didn't wanna leave you hanging forever! ngl it's pretty filthy..heh.

◇: 18+ pretend those twitch guideline things don't exist. remote control vibrator use, orgasm denial, sub-ish!ellie?? plot twist at the end bc i think im so funny. 1.6k wc. don't mind the layout of this idk what else to do...

You watch your girlfriend stream her game from your fluffy and comfortable spot on your shared bed—you observe how focused she was on her screen, how her skilled fingers were flying across the keyboard and mouse. It would certainly be a shame to disturb her in such a high tension moment but you think it over, running your finger over the small buttons of the sleek little remote in your hand.

"Yeah, yeah, got 'em! Look at that guys, I fuckin’ aced that!" Ellie rejoices in her victory, and gleefully boasts to her viewers, adjusting her microphone closer and leaning back in her chair.

You're glad you were far off camera, her fans didn't even know she was in a relationship—Ellie made it clear she wanted you to be separate from her hobbies, not because she wanted to keep you a secret, but because she wanted to keep you safe. And you enjoyed watching her stream from the sidelines like this, you saw how her personality captivated viewers and how much fun she really was. But you also enjoyed messing with her on the occasion. Like today.

"Can I watch tonight's stream again?" You asked her eagerly. "Yeah, why not? I'll be doing some tournaments and stuff though, so no distractions." Oops. You bit back a laugh. Ellie immediately sussed out the mischievous look on your face and she sighed, expecting the worst.

Then you showed her the box you've been hiding, "Please let's try, I won't click it too much, I promise." She stared at you for a whole minute, maybe more, before sighing and reluctantly agreeing, rubbing her hands all over her face. "God, fine. Just 'cause I love you. Damn you're evil."

Fast forward to now—the device was snugly inserted inside her pretty pussy, tested out to prove it does in fact work, and works well at that.

So off Ellie went to play her game, getting so caught up in everything she seemingly forgot about the device entirely. In between games she was talking to the viewers, reading the chat and joking back and forth. You decided it was a good enough time to click it so you pressed the button, only for a miniscule zap.

She jerked in her seat, gasping, but quickly recovered with a strategic cough. "Phew sorry guys, something got caught in my throat." You saw a bright berry blush spread across her face, and the way she fought to turn and throw a glare at you. This was going to be fun.

"Alright, the next round’s gonna start, we gotta lock in! Hopefully nothing pops up and this goes smoothly. I can taste the win already.” She put a certain warning tone to her voice in the last part of her sentence, you knew it was meant for you, but were you going to listen? Absolutely not. "Oh yeah chat fun fact, this old area of the map was inspired by ancient ruins just of—ah!" As if her body had a mind of its own, she squirmed in her seat and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a moan when you hit it again, but this time you didn't turn it off right away. You kept it going for a few more seconds, to prolong the terribly delicious sensation.

She screwed her eyes shut tightly and held her breath until you turned it off, mumbling to her viewers about "having hiccups". "The game is starting now, so we really gotta get serious." Her voice had an unsteadiness to it only you could hear, she was keeping her composure rather well so far. But likely wouldn't be able to keep up the act for much longer. Even she has her limits.

As her match went on, she got quiet when she was focused, mashing the keys with a speed fast as sound. Of course, you hit it again, just a short one, causing a choked "guh" to escape from her lips and she twitched when you did so, her facade starting to crack. The effort to keep her voice stable was showing, she was huffing and struggling to get her words out clearly, they were laced with obvious irritation.

"Fuck missed the shot, dammit. Yeah I don't know, somethings up today, sorry guys...off my game." You decided to be nice to her until the game ended, not pressing it further or adjusting the intensity. She played for a little while longer before losing the match, leaning forward on the desk with her face in her hands. This was the perfect moment, so you cranked it up, increased the intensity to maximum, and held the button for the longest time yet, making her whine—a low, drawn out sound she couldn't stifle this time.

You could hear lots of messages being sent, pings in rapid succession, they were probably clipping that moment. Perverts, you thought.

Her chest was noticeably heaving up and down, her legs spread as she rocks her front against the chair, and she kept her head lowered until you decreased the intensity but didn't turn it all the way off. Her hands were shaking, and her face was a vibrant cherry red, the screen even reflected the sparkle of a couple tears in her eyes.

“What? Oh, I'm just so sad about the loss guys, we were so close—hnn- so…so closeahh—I mean, we should've gotten that…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her fingers on the desk’s wooden surface. “Y’know what, I'll be right back.” She paused the stream, made triple sure her camera and microphone were turned off, then whipped around in her chair to face you, glaring silver daggers your way.

You just giggled innocently and turned the device off again. “What the fuck is wrong with you, this shit is not- not light on you at all.” Her voice was breaking, her pretty features contorted in a beautifully needy expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all watery. Nearly as wet as the mess in her pants. You feigned innocence and shrugged at her, “Well I didn't know it was that strong.” “You knew damn well.” She's fed up with your antics, but you have fun playing with her. She covers her face and leans back in the chair, the embarrassment in her voice the only thing you could hear, “Fuck you...turn it up again, wanna cum.”

You couldn't contain the laugh that burst forth from your chest, then said, “Only if you stream it.” The shock that flickered across her face was priceless, you wish you could have snapped a photo.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, nah forget it.”

“Hey, you gotta finish your stream either way, they're waiting. Would you wanna be so awful and deprive those darlings of your presence?”

You flash her a sugary smile, and she shoots you a murderous look again, before wordlessly scooting back to her setup, fanning herself briefly and readjusting her coppery hair.

Then she turns the stream back on. “Sorry guys, I had to get up for a second. Anyway, let's play one more game. I'm getting kinda tired today. Let's make this one count, lock in like never before.” She takes a deep breath, cracks her knuckles, and begins smacking away at the keyboard buttons. You're able to see the way she looks tense, on edge, anticipating your devilish interruption.

You debate whether you should torture her, but the answer quickly becomes clear. Click.

“Ah—fuck!” She sputters, and roughly slams her fist on the desk. The pleasure was hitting her with full force, she was in her own, lewd, world now. Her head is thrown back, back arched and hips stuttering, the release was about to sneak up on her.

You watch the scenario unfold, licking your lips and pressing your thighs together to deal with the pressure between them. Her unapologetic moans get louder, but for a second she snaps out of the trance to sit back upright, turn the stream off, before the peak hits her like a truck.

“Holy, fu—hah!!” With a squeal she cums, not caring about how fucking loud she was being, wanting to be selfishly absorbed in ecstasy.

She started to jolt around in her seat, the throes of overstimulation making her whimper like an animal in heat, it truly was a sight to behold. You wish you were in between her legs, lapping up her sweetness straight from the source, but in a way, just watching from the sidelines was satisfying enough. You'll clean her up afterward.

Finally you turned it off once and for all, and gazed at her, she was panting heavily, the post-orgasm glow making her rosy skin shimmer in the low light.

“Hmmm, thanks babe, that was so good…” She tried to talk, her head was in the clouds, but she looked at peace.

“You're a whore.” You chortled, and you two shared a laugh.

Although, a flurry of shrill sounds brought you both out of the fantasy. Ping, ping, ping.

Unfortunately she wasn't able to enjoy the aftermath of a mind-numbing session, because her eyes shot open and she began scrambling to find the source of the sound. Your stomach dropped as you watched her panic, her neuroticism infectious.

She looked at you, her eyes wider than saucers, nothing but fear in her voice, “I wasn't able to turn my mic off…”

What was she going to do now?

if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, click here! thank you for reading. asks, reblogs, and comments are appreciated more than you know. ♡

tags: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @mascdom @xysbree @liddysflyer @fortune777 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2 @deliriousrn @infiniteinquiries @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut @elliesapple

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understrangeforbiddenskies · 18 days ago

Text

with you, there's no pretending

ellie williams x fem reader

↣ LOSER ELLIE LOSER ELLIE LOSER ELLIE cus there is not enough representation

*+:｡.｡ warnings / kissing, so much fluff, some angst, joel mention, smoking weed, SLIGHT nsfw but it's really just a makeout

𝄞 juna - clairo

author's note: ellie was the reason i accepted i like women so this is a trip down memory lane (sorry if it isn't accurate i haven't properly read an ellie fic since i was 15 </3)

+ probably stuttered like crazy when she first met you. just imagine it, her cheeks pink, an uncontrollable smile plastered on her face, and all she could say was "i am ellie" as she stuck her hand out in a poor attempt to shake yours.

+ you had to ask her out. it was during a particularly boring patrol which mainly consisted of you and ellie exploring random abandoned stores. she started rambling about some space book she found until you blurted out "do you wanna go on a date?". safe to say she was speechless (still managed to say yes of course).

+ your first kiss with ellie was so sweet. it was after one of the many movie nights you two had. at this point you were both yawning, almost falling asleep in eachothers arms until you tilted your head up, looking her in the eyes for a moment. she couldn't stop smiling when you finally pressed your lips against hers.

+ you said i love you first. no way in HELL did ellie get the courage to say it first. once you had said it to her she said it back immediately, a wide grin plastered on her face as she tackled you into a hug. now, she says it all the time - especially during the most random moments like after you successfully shoot a clicker.

+ would ramble about her comics to you in great detail every time you came over. it would consistent of her sitting cross legged on the bed, arms flailing, voice getting slightly louder as she explained everything that happened. you'd get confused half way through but do your best to pay attention.

+ if you’re also into comics, space, dinosaurs, or whatever, ellie would love it so much. one of her favourite activities would be talking about one of those topics for hours on end with you. has this sometimes lead to arguments? yes. did you both stop and realise what you were arguing about before bursting into laughter? also yes!

+ ellie has definitely drawn you before. in fact, she probably found a whole new journal so she could dedicate it to drawings of you. one time you came to her place just before she got back from patrol and noticed the journal was open; she was in the middle of writing a poem about you.

+ matching bracelets!!!!!! you found some string and some beads the kids left over from arts and crafts so you snagged them before anyone else could. you spent your evening picking the perfect beads for ellie's bracelet, with the one in the middle being the colour of your eyes. she wears it absolutely EVERYWHERE.

+ if you don't already play, she would try her best to teach you how to play guitar. she's a horrible teacher and you both know this, but it gives you another excuse to hang out and be as close together as possible.

+ she’s the type of person to finish your sentences for you. it get a little annoying sometimes but it’s also really cute so you just put up with it at this point. plus you think it’s sweet that she knows you so well.

+ you and ellie got high together so many times before. but that was usually with dina and jesse. this time, you two were alone, sat on her bed. you knew ellie rambled a lot when she was high. as much as you love hearing her voice, you could not stop thinking about kissing her. so you did. you grabbed her face in your hands, shutting her up with a hard kiss, slowly getting on top of her.

+ despite ellie being a massive loser, she can be pretty protective (and get jealous pretty easily). she'll get jealous over the silliest of things. this one time you were sat beside dina, your arm draped over her shoulder as you talked to one another. jesse, who was sat across from the both of you, had to nudge ellie's shoulder to stop her from glaring staring at you.

+ if you were having a rough day or just felt upset for whatever reason, ellie would feel slightly awkward. she wouldn't really know what to do other than hug you or crack a joke here and there. usually it works and she gets you smiling again within no time.

+ ellie would open up to you about joel. it would mainly be her complaining or talking about “that weird look he gave her before she went on patrol”. at other times, however, when it was just the two of you laying in each others arms late at night, she would tell you about what joel was like before jackson. what joel was like before ellie shut him out.

+ adding on to that, we know that ellie isn't one to talk about her feelings often, or even at all. if you two got into an argument or she was just being really mean to you one day, you probably won't get a verbal explanation. ellie would feel really guilty and write up an apology/explanation letter, slipping it into your mailbox, along with a sketch of you.

bonus modern!au headcanons:

+ ellie would most likely wear glasses. she’s the type of person to game until her eyes are red (me too). joel noticed she was squinting at him during a conversation and forced her to go to the “eye guys” as ellie called them. yeah her eyesight sucks.

+ i know everyone and their mothers say ellie would study physics/anything spacey but what about art student!ellie… we know she’s really talented and clearly enjoys art. i would like to imagine you’d be her muse.

+ (you definitely cracked a “paint me like one of your french girls” joke when she asked to draw you)

+ your first date with ellie would either be at a cafe or a museum. or both. oh and best believe it’s a dinosaur museum (only because you begged her to go to one). overall, it’s cute and filled with big smiles and some really shy hand holding.

+ okay this is really random but i think ellie would LOVE dr pepper. she's basically addicted to it. every study session, you show up with a dr pepper and she thanks you by plastering kisses all over your face.

+ has, and will continue to, steal your lip balms. she never buys her own because she claims they are a "waste of money" and "yours are always better anyway". the taste of your lip balm always reminds her of you when you're gone, it's perfect.

#𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖☁️ understrangeforbiddenskies #i love loser ellie sm #she's such a nerd ughh #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #loser!ellie williams #ellie williams #tlou #ellie williams headcanons

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booksandteaandtears · 4 days ago

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And to my darling husband!

Dr. Jack Abbot x famous!wife

I don't know why but I'm obsessed with Abbot hiding the fact that he has a wife from everyone. Here's my first take on it, more to follow.

genre: sweet, short

summary: A famous singer has a benefit concert nearby, and its being streamed at the Pitt. The Pitt-crew make a lot of comments about her, but they come to regret it before the shift is over... poor Shen.

about 800 words

masterlist

"Hey Dr. Abbot, you wanna put on the benefit concert on the television tonight? That singer you like is closing it"

Jack Abbot looked up from his phone and into Shen's face incredulously. "That singer I like?"

"Yeah, you know her. I've heard you whistle her songs a lot these past months. You were humming her newest song last shift."

Jack raised his eyebrows, unaware that he had ever whistled within ten miles of his co-workers. He decided that playing it cool would be his best course of action. "Sure, put it on. Don't think will get much time to look at any of it during a full moon shift, but it can't hurt."

"Sweet!" Shen slurped the remainder of his iced coffee and turned to leave the break room. Robby came in at that moment. "Hey Dr. Robby, you heading to the benefit tonight? Heard that gorgeous singer's performing." Robby raised his eyebrows at Jack. "That gorgeous singer, huh? But no, I've got a date with my bed tonight. Talking about that gorgeous singer, why are you here Jack, aren't you supposed to be-" Jack raised his eyebrows back at him, looking at Shen over Robby's shoulder. "Any reason I'm not supposed to be here? I always work full moon shifts." Robby raised his hands in defeat, "Never mind, never mind, I'll keep your private life private, don't you worry."

Two hours later, a small group of staff had gathered in front of the TV next to the nurses' station. Through some miracle performed by a higher power, you could not call the ER busy on this full moon night, and they were spending their time looking at the concert. Jack kept himself busy by reading some update in a medical journal behind the desk, feigning disinterest in the concert. His eyes kept wondering to the screen, glancing to see what artist was performing.

"Ah, look," Said Ellis, leaning over the desk with a chart in her hand. "She's starting her performance. God, isn't she beautiful? I keep wondering what she'd be like in real life." Jack nodded at her. "Sure, she's one of a kind." His hand reached up to his necklace involuntarily, his thumb and forefinger tracing the ring that was on it. Ellis caught the movement and smiled at him. "Ooh, but not as pretty as your wife, I see how it is. You ever gonna tell us who this lady who was crazy enough to marry you is?" Jack muttered something under his breath and turned his attention back towards the journal in his hand.

Ten minutes later the crowd in front of the TV had grown even more. Jack wished he could do something about it, but there really was nothing else to do for the ER staff. He leaned back in his chair, eyes towards the screen, hand on the ring next to his Dog Tags.

"You know, they say she's married to a doctor. Some tiktoker posted about it a couple days ago. Had a whole list of evidence." He heard someone say, his grip tightened. "No way," scoffed one of the nurses, "She's way too hot for that. I'll bet you she's dating a sportsman of some kind, like a hockeyplayer or something. Someone buff and handsome. I'll put twenty bucks on it."

Shen agreed. "If i were her husband I wouldn't spend a second away from her, let alone a 12 hour shift. There's no way someone like her married a doctor."

Abbot took that moment to clear his throat, rather loudly, and any further comments were made at a lower volume. That didn't mean he couldn't hear them though.

When the singer was almost done with her performance, she gave her thanks to the organisers, stressing the importance of the charities the concert was supporting. The level of excitement rose when the ER staff realised she was going to sing one more song, one of her greatest hits.

"And to my darling husband, who couldn't be here tonight 'cause he's out there saving lives on a full moon, I thank you for always being my person, my love, my everything. I love you, Dr. Jack Abbot, this song is for you!"

Jack couldn't help a smirk crawling up his face when Shen turned around and looked absolutely terrified.

#dr jack abbot #jack abbot #dr abbot #the pitt fic #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt hbo #the pitt imagine #dr michael robinavitch #dr robinavitch #dr robby #jealous husband #dr john shen #dr shen #john shen #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #dr abbot x reader #dr jack abbot x wife #dr abbot x wife

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grotesquevi · 5 days ago

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misc. smut prompt #24 with ellie😝😘

cw # 18+ mdni, academic rivals, fingering, dirty talk, loser sub!ellie, choking. as usual, this comes with a music rec. this is an special celebration as i just reached 1k followers! feel free to look at the prompt list i'll be working with to get some drabbles out and send a max of 2 numbers + a character to my ask if you want to join! wc: 1.8k they will be smaller than this also. i got heavily carried away. what the hell.

“can you stop being a damn pervert for five seconds of your life?” oh man. ellie shouldn't be enjoying this so much. shouldn't be so entertained by the scrunch your nose gives when talking to her, standing tall and ready to punch her in the nose if necessary "i can see you staring at my tits. quit being annoying."

"we are sharing a cig of peace, psycho" she dares to lie for a moment, turning away to light up the stick between her lips for a second, the smoke filling the air as she exhales — "i'm not staring at your tits."

"why did you drag me here anyway?" you inquire already losing your patience "i can barely hear the music and i'm sure jesse wont like the fact we're smoking in his room."

ellie cant help it anyway, when she's blowing the smoke to your face and you sigh pissed. of course you're acting like a prick: she took the #1 spot in most of your classes, become the favorite of the teachers taking away your spot even when you actually sacrifice a lot to have the attention you have only for her to be what? barely moving a finger to say something incredibly intelligent? fucking cunt.

"jesus. i brought you here to offer a deal, one that could benefit you if you listen for once" ellie swears she can see the tension, rigid muscles even when she's giving you the cigarette and you doubt for a second to accept it: is she capable of poison it? yes. but she's far from doing that to you—. "i was thinking of letting you be the first of the class again."

"you what?"

"yeah" to be sincere. ellie williams doesn't give two shits about being the best of the class, it's a title she's not that interested in carrying, and while you smoke, she also knows about the fact she's biased cause you're so pretty it hurts to see the hate on your face every time you look down her way. how you're able to be so actively avoiding her like she has done something awful, something more than just academic reasons. "i don't care about having the best grades. i can be mistaken in a couple of answers on the next tests and you'll be back in the game."

"and what do you want in return?"

"nothing."

"nothing? you can't be serious."

"yes," she thinks about it for a second before her impulses take over, ellie will regret this later after three more beers. "i won't make you sleep with me if that's what you're wondering."

"and why not?"

her breathing hitches on the back of her throat for a second, and she can't tell if you're being serious or if you're just messing with her — "are you asking me why i'm not blackmailing you with sex?"

"no, i'm asking if you want to sleep with me" you rephrase again hitting the jackpot, and as the silence settles in like a heavy blanket, it makes your rival stay silent for a minute or two before you're adding impatient as ever: "answer me. c'mon, i know you're quick to catch up."

"i just want you to stop giving me that look."

"which look?"

"you know. that look you give me every day in uni. when you're avoiding me at all costs. like there's no one you could hate more."

you try to think about an answer that's good enough to fight her accusations, but its impossible as you shut up and instead, smoke from the cigarette she gave you. the organic tobacco she rolled in an small paper in dead silence minutes before.

"i do hate you," you reply sincerely, "you're more intelligent than me. funnier. hotter. every one i've ever talked to fucking loves you, and it makes me hate you even more."

"i'm sorry."

"no i don't think you're sorry, ellie" now you're the one staring at her tits, at the half buttoned-tucked shirt, the necklace that gets lost inside right between a bra-less chest. she's using this black sleek pants and ellie can swear she can feel the holes your eyes make when taking in every part of her body, swallowing her slowly. "all of this outfit- is because you had an important test today?"

she doesn't realize you're that close at first, too late to say anything as she gulps down and nods—. "you mean for the suit? yes. needed a beer after all the stress."

"how did it go?” you’re so quick to reply, to keep the conversation going the way you want to. should be considered a damn talent cause it helps her brain take some time out when ellie’s feeling your hand in her legs, squeezing the flesh ever so slightly that she has to try so hard not to look at the contact there, burning. “bet you got an A since you’re a smart ass.”

"well, if i'm right, then i should be getting an A- while you can have the A+ next friday when it's your turn."

"you really thought about this a lot huh?"

"i did- sorry, are you trying to seduce me?" you seemed to forgot about the cigarette now consuming on the empty glass of water close to jesse's bed, makes ellie think about how she’s not blushing, why she sounds so confident even when you blatantly laugh at her face.

"you know what i hate even more about you?" your-so-long rival is currently lost in the color of your eyes, this damn t-shirt you're wearing that gives her such a nice view of your cleavage when she's fighting hard to keep her eyes focused on your face instead of your chest, have some decency for once — "how you got me all curious about you, without even noticing."

ellie's heart beats loudly in her ear, the sound making everything else fall into silence: you are flirting with her. and she let it happen cause she's amazed when your fingers tightens around her leg, squeezing the skin with a much more noticeable force and making her unsure for a second if thats you making a move, cause she's so into letting you have all of her.

of course it's a fucking move.

your lips are soft against hers, almost unsure if you should be more demanding until ellie's pushing you closer, parting her legs mid-way through the unexpected kiss as a silent invitation, as a way of almost saying she needs you taking more, over direct skin and not the layer of her jeans.

"yeah i am seducing you. i think its working just fine" you finally accepted, looking at her through those eyes she knows already from memory, that smile you always do when things go your way—. "would you finish opening up your legs f'me so i can finger you better?"

what amazes ellie even more than your question, is the blatant way she listens to you and actually do what you ask. when she's parting her legs wide open and her weight rests over the palm of her left hand when leaning backwards, and you seemed pleased as you're unzipping her pants, taking your shirt off cause you're kind enough to give her a nice view, something to ground her and bring the astronaut back to earth.

"is this okay?" she's erratic when nodding, as your hand toys with the waistband of her underwear — "you gonna tell me if it's too much, ells?"

"god, it's more than okay- i'll do anything you want me to," she cant help but choke when saying it, you're making her sweat in her cute suit. "anything at all. you just have to name it."

"good," you reply leaving soft kisses in the crook of her neck, not near enough to be marks, but yes to leave saliva glistening in the skin that slowly burned even hotter. "you just stay where you are and don't move. got you where i want you."

so your fingers graze against her underwear, soaked already it clings into her cunt, molding to your fingers. even from over a barrier of cotton, ellie swears she can feel the warmth of your fingertips go down her folds, pushing the underwear with a couple of digits until she can actually feel the roughness of it rubbing against the sensitive flesh, torturing her, driving her to a madness she craves to feel like a fever.

"oh fuck," ellie moans, her lips part unafraid of making some noises when the music's outside too loud to care, when she already locked the door from when she invited you to smoke a cigarette under the premise of having to talk. her hips rub on slow circles and suddenly she moving against your fingers, staining her black pants with her own arousal, "is this your way of making it up f'me? for making you number one again?"

"mhm," you're too concentrated to use your words when you're making her underwear to the side, cursing under your breath about how her cute outfit does nothing but get in the way, it makes ellie chuckle at your lack of patience even when she's already overwhelmed by your intoxicating touch as she holds you by the arm afraid you'll slip away.

"you've always been the number one" she manages to say when you're rubbing on her clit, when you're touching her as a reward she deserves more than ever — "you know that. you've always been the best."

she's feeding on your ego and it's so damn rewarding, so damn good. makes your skin shiver when ellie's riding your fingers, when the chain on around her neck catches your attention and you're using the jewelry to choke her, have total control and just enough force to wrap the silver around your fist there in your free hand and pull sufficient to make her gasp.

"what else?" you ask, drunk on her words "what else you've been keeping from me? you were salivating for me like this all semester?"

her cheeks finally acquire the most intense shade of red you've ever seen, spreading against her freckles, going down her neck, and you'd like to tease her about her reaction, make fun of her when she's so lame about you, so given to whatever you ask.

and ellie's puzzled at this point cause when she cums all over your hand? you've barely fucked her with a couple of fingers, stretching her cunt patiently as she does nothing more than whine until you came across that nice spot she loves, the very same that makes her body shake in not nearly enough minutes.

is she blushing at the lack of oxygen when you're choking her with the necklace she loves? or is it thanks to the force of the orgasm that got her all flustered and shy?

"did you just cum?" you ask almost not believing it, brows furrowed, still hungry for more "hell williams. get up. we're going again i'm not really done with you."

damn right you're number one, was there ever any doubt?

#𐂯 ₊˚⊹ riv's special 1k .ᐟ #⋮ ⌗ ┆ grotesquevi ᵎᵎ ✮#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou smut #ellie tlou x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams fanfic #loser!ellie #sub!ellie #ellie x you

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elliekuma · 8 days ago

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part 2 to this ♡

୨୧ cw. stalker! ellie, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fingering, strap use, praise & degradation, manipulation, overstim, dubcon

♡ very dark content, be cautious .ᐟ.ᐟ take care of yourself ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ♡

it's been a month since ellie had kept you in her basement. days of lifeless hope that maybe someone would stumble across you, some repair man fixing her breaker or something, but no. no one had come—she knew how to do everything, even when you had purposely destroyed her power so that she'd have to call someone. she fixed it herself. "aw, c'mon. don't do that please?" she cooed, hands caressing your cheek like you were a little kid that knocked their cup of juice over. you wondered if the news ever talked about you, or if your family had visited to search for you. but they didn't. and you knew they wouldn't. ellie never allowed you to watch television either, cutting you off from the outside completely.

eventually you became pliant by the beginning of the second month, accepting your fate and all the dirty kisses that ellie had planted on your body—as much as you wanted to run, ellie kept you fed. kept you warm and always gave you what you wanted. that heavy part of you was lightened just a bit, because you didn’t have to live pay check to pay check anymore. you didn’t have to worry about an empty fridge, and ellie was much nicer than you imagined. she cradled you in her arms when you panicked, held you close to her heart and muttered promises into your unkempt hair. the first time she let you upstairs and into her own bedroom, your stomach turned with how close her skin was pressed against yours. it was comforting now. warm, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you had found yourself waiting for her to come home when she left.

ellie bought you pretty clothes, things you’ve always wanted to wear but couldn’t afford—beautiful tops and bottoms that matched. you’re trying on a dress she had ordered for you a week prior when you hear the familiar sound of keys outside your door, footsteps down the stairs. she smiles when her eye catches you, adorned by the pretty dress over your body. “i see you’ve kept yourself busy,” you nod, feeling warmth spread across your cheeks at her wandering eyes. you don’t say anything in response, you haven’t really talked at all actually. only quiet affirmations and only ever answering questions about yourself when she asked. she steps closer to you, her fingers finding the bottom of your dress. “looks so pretty on you,” she leans in to your bare neck, nose against your skin—“and you smell so good.” you smile in return. “have you been good today?” she asks, setting down her bag and sitting on one of the chairs she left for you.

“yes, ellie.” you’re twirling your thumbs together, watching as she stares at you. she takes her time taking you in, the way your skin perfectly complimented the fabric, that sweet small smile across your face, how you got so shy under her gaze. it’s not long before ellie gets desperate, and she pulls you onto her lap and spins the chair around so you both fit into the frame of the mirror you had. “tell me about your day.” she mumbles into your shoulder, her hands trailing to your tits, groping them gently, a hitch in your breath when she rubs around your clothed nipple. “i—i didn’t do much, just laid in bed and ate.. ah, and tried on stuff..” you whisper, feeling vulnerable seeing yourself in the mirror. ellie’s hands are all over you, enveloping your body, it looks so dirty. your head turns to the side, avoiding your own gaze in your reflection. ellie clicks her tongue in response, “keep your eyes on the mirror, keep talking.”

“i um… just napped, showered too.. um, that’s all,” you continued, your eyes finding ellie’s in the mirror when you look back. your insides feel hot, gushy, seeing her eyes swallow you like you were nothing. “mm, good girl. didn’t think about running away again, right?” one hand is pulling up the bottom of your dress, your panties on display—ellie’s slipping her other under them, fingers grazing over your heat. you whimper. “n—no.. i wasn’t.” ellie hums. you’re already wet, soaking even, spotting that wet translucent patch on the bottom of your panties as she tugs them off. “promise?” you nod, tears edging your waterline. she’s rubbing at your folds, sticky to her skin, making your pussy even messier. “spread your legs for me, then.” your thighs part, legs over ellie’s, so open and exposing your entire lower half to the both of you. you almost look away from the mirror when you see how you twitch, your hole pulsing around ellie’s fingers teasing your entrance. but you don’t. “look at you, so spread open for me, aren’t you glad you have me?”

your head flickers to your life before the four cement walls that kept you captive. late night drinks with your coworkers after a shitty shift, listening to your favorite playlists in your car while you drove home, the stray cat that roamed around your apartment—your heart beats just a little faster, something close to sadness growing in your stomach. but it flutters away when ellie dips her finger inside of your wet pussy, watching her finger disappear into your cunt. “ellie.. p-please…” your moans go straight to ellie’s core, her pussy throbbing at the sounds spilling from your lips. “don’t want you thinkin’ of anything else,” a curl of her finger, brushing over that spot inside of you—the one she spent days memorizing, pressing against you and taking you for herself even when you cried for her to stop. “i’m—not, ah,” she pushes in another finger, jamming into your cunt as deep as she could. ellie was addicted to the feeling of your warm walls clenching down on her, tightening around her fingers and covering them in slick, “i’m gonna ruin you, make sure you—fuck, baby, make sure you don’t get any silly ideas about trying to escape.” you can tell ellie is slowly losing composure too, her eyes locked onto her fingers diving into your cunt over and over again, dribbles of your arousal dripping onto her crotch whenever she pulls out, an obscene squelch at every thrust. your eyes are glossy, face fucked out just from her fingers.

“look at you,” ellie chuckles, her breath against your skin. “moaning like this just from my fingers?—a week ago you were fighting back,” another hard thrust, rubbing right against your sweet spot, a strangled moan of ellie’s name from your lips. “what happened to that, huh?” ellie drags your dress up even higher, your tits splayed out and open for the both of you to look at. she groans at the sight, watching as you squirm on her lap, digging into you like she was trying to find something. ellie’s gaze flickers from your tits to your cunt, doesn’t know where to look because she’s so overwhelmed—you’re so pretty like this, and you’re everything that she’s ever wanted. you’re even more beautiful when you aren’t punching or kicking, or filling ellie’s ears with screams every time she touched you. she can take what she wanted from your body. and she had been. “m’ sorry ellie, i’m gonna c—cum..” you feel her fingers still, the horrible feeling of emptiness inside you, watching as ellie brings her hands to her mouth so she can lick herself clean. “don’t want you to come yet, baby.”

your head is fuzzy, the same feeling you had whenever ellie gave you something to calm down, so you’re not too sure on how you got onto your mattress—not too sure when ellie had left, the distant noises of a door opening and footsteps in your ears, and suddenly she’s on top of you, your dress bunched up to your neck and the sound of something wet, looking at ellie to see a black harness around her waist, a long thick strap and slender fingers moving up and down the toy. “want you to come on my cock,” ellie smiles, shifting her hips so the tip laid right onto your cunt, your arms coming up to wrap around ellie’s neck. “what if i can’t take it?—“ she ignores you, hand gripping at her strap and slapping your pussy with it, ellie groans when she hears the plap! “you will.”

her hands find the bottoms of your thighs, lifting them up while she pushes herself inside of you, your gummy walls tightening around her immediately—it hurts, it’s nothing like her fingers, it’s big and it fills you up completely. the stretch knocks the breath out of you, and you swear you can feel her in your throat, it makes you panic. “ellie! no—no please, it hurts!” her teeth are sinking into your skin while you beg, the sting hard to bear when you’re jolting up the mattress in pain, her thrusts never getting any gentler. “it won’t hurt when you get used to it,” ellie mumbles, “please, i’ve waited for so long.. fuck, shit—to have you like this, under me,” ellie kisses where the marks of her teeth laid, licking a stripe to the bottom of your jaw. “spent so many nights coming home, and ah, fuck you’re tight—“ her tip is basically thrusting into your cervix, a loud moan of ellie’s name again and again, the abuse to your soppy pussy loud and pornographic. “came home after seeing you, in that tight apron—rubbing myself on my pillow till i came,” ellie’s thrusts get more desperate, fast, her hips slamming into your ass every time her strap was inside you. “you don’t know… how fucking bad,” a harder thrust, like she was enunciating her words with how far she could push herself into you, “i needed you, wanted you.. wanted to get you alone and fuck you till you cried,” ellie whimpers, the back of her strap bumping right against her clit, “i can give you everything you want.”

your fingernails are dragging red lines across her back, spit spilling down the sides of your mouth, gurgling on the words you wanted to scream—it still hurts, the way she’s dragging herself along your sensitive walls and licking at your ear with no remorse, and you find yourself coming all over her—squirts of your arousal messily coating the silicone, hitting ellie’s lower half and dripping down your cunt. but she doesn’t stop, figured that since you came, it was her turn. her back is completely covered in your scratches now, painful, but ellie relishes in the way that your hands had given her those. she bullies her strap into you with no mercy, thrusting in impossibly deeper, as hard as she could to have it push up against her clit like it had moments before. she delivers a few more excruciating drives into your puffy pussy before she cums, her entire body shaking violently as she grinds into you—you can’t tell if you were screaming, but your throat hurts, and when she pulls out it makes you twitch. you see ellie’s face appear in your blurry vision, warm hands brushing hair out of your face. “you’re perfect, you’re so perfect.. you belong to me, say it.. please.”

you gulp, the soreness of your throat making it difficult, but your wet lips move to answer. “i belong to you.” ellie knows that everything had been worth it when she cradles your sweaty face, your eyes somewhere far away and your pussy covered in your own mess. it was worth it. she can’t feel the way your stomach tightens when you realize this is all you’ll ever know now. her face and the four cement walls keeping you in place. she can’t feel the way your head spins when you realize no one will come looking, because if they had been, you would be home by now. so you accept the clammy hands holding yours, squeezing. you bury your face in ellie’s neck and accept it.

tag list ♡

@livvietalks @ellies-dinosaur @l0veylace @therealhexstrap @morticeras @whisperingcherub @hyperbabes

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ella writes ── .ꔫ ellie williams ♡

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alwayslurkinginthebackground · 4 months ago

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Rocking Chair - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: E, unprotected p in v, slightest of breeding kinks?, idk y'all I just went feral here. Word Count: 2156 a/n: Happy TLOU Sunday! I genuinely blacked out while writing half of this in some kind of NyQuil induced haze! Enjoy!

Something is bothering him.

You clocked it the second you walked over the threshold of his brother's home. Actually, you knew something was up long before that, when he kept trying to make excuses as to why you and Ellie should go and he should stay home, despite the fact that it was his brother. Eventually, you convinced him to follow you down the street, Ellie chattering excitedly about the prospect of having a baby in the family while Joel dragged his feet.

His mood only worsened as the evening went on, following the trend of distance he'd been following since the baby arrived, a pattern that made you uneasy. Tonight, it was difficult to tell if it was the result of the mirage of questioning from the handful of close friends Tommy and Maria had invited over to meet their new son or because of whatever was lurking in the depths of his mind, but you kept trying to pinpoint it. You could only assume that it was some combination of both, a hypothesis only strengthened by the look of disappointment in the younger Miller brother's eyes when his sibling politely declined the opportunity to hold his nephew.

You're next to Ellie on the couch, the newest resident of Jackson tucked into your arms, when you meet his eyes from across the room for what feels like the thousandth time since you arrived. He's leaning against the door to the kitchen and you can see the discomfort in his posture and the way his shoulders tense further as yet another person approaches to congratulate him as though he was the new father and not his brother.

"Can I hold him?" Ellie asks suddenly, pulling your attention back to your side of the room. You turn to find her bright eyes looking down at the sleeping child, and it's impossible to stop the spread of warmth through your chest at the teen's eagerness. After a quick glance at Maria for permission, you gently pass the bundle over to Ellie, showing her how to properly cradle his head.

Joel's still watching when you turn back to the kitchen, his gaze securely set on the way Ellie is beaming as she holds the newborn. There's something hovering beneath the surface of his dark gaze, the root of whatever has truly been bothering him, and you feel certain you've almost worked it out when Ellie elbows you.

"He's waking up! What do I do?!"

"Just keep holding him, it'll be okay," you reassure her, although when the crying starts a moment later you can't help but join in the laughter filling the room as Ellie quickly hands the baby back to his mother. She breathes a sigh of relief and flops back on the couch the second he's out of her arms, and you give her a pat on the shoulder before you naturally seek out Joel once more, only to find him gone.

You don't see him again until the gathering winds down. He's eager to get home, and soon he's resuming his vigil of silence on the walk back down the street. He's behind you, always behind you, his shoulders still set in the same rigid formation they've been in all night, and you walk a few feet ahead with Ellie, doing your best to answer her questions about when the baby will start talking or walking and whether you think he'll look more like Tommy or Maria when he gets older.

The delicate balance that has been hanging between the three of you all evening holds steady until you're back through your own door, when three sets of eyes land on the rocking chair that still sits nearby, the silence soon enveloping you all.

"I thought you were going to bring that for Tommy and Maria?" Ellie asks, breaking the tension in a way that has you wincing, even if she's right. The chair still smells of fresh lumber, the smooth edges molded by Joel's hands in the late hours of the night when he couldn't sleep, and it's still sitting in your living room.

"Didn't he want it?" she continues, earning her an elbow to the ribs courtesy of your right arm. Joel grumbles something behind you as Ellie winces, and you're already silently begging her not to push it further. She must catch the look you give her because a moment later she's heading upstairs with a heavy sigh, the door of her room closing with a soft click.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" you inquire firmly once you're alone, arms crossing over your chest as you watch Joel move into the kitchen.

He dismisses you with a shake of his head and a muttered "nothin's wrong," but the way he stands, unmoving as he stares at the sparse contents of the fridge, tells you otherwise.

"No, something is bothering you, so do you wanna start with why you've been distant all week or would you rather discuss the way you tried to stay as far away as possible from your new nephew tonight?"

It's easy to see the way he tenses when you finish your questioning. You've known him long enough to recognize the subtle straightening of his spine whenever you hit a little too close to the mark and the way he avoids eye contact when he turns back in your direction, a signal that you have indeed gotten under his skin. It's in the familiar quiet that descends upon the kitchen as you wait for him to speak.

Only, unlike the clockwork routine you expect to follow, the one that usually has him letting down a few of his walls for you and you alone, you instead find yourself hauled against his body like a man possessed. When his grasp trails to your thighs, it's mostly instinct that has you jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist in a practiced motion.

He's pinning you against the counter within seconds.

"Joel," you mumble, trying to sound stern even as his lips trail along your jawline, down your neck, and across the expanse of your chest, trailing lower until he's found where you're wet and wanting. You try to get him to look at you, hands raking through the hair he's refused to cut as of late, hopeful that his gaze will tell you something about the way you can feel him avoiding whatever it is that's on his mind. A hint as to why he's using you to forget instead of working through the emotions that are obviously controlling his every move.

But when your eyes meet his again, you only see the feral haze of lust, and you can do nothing but give in when he's pressing his nose against the damp spot between your thighs, leaving you thankful for the warm summer air that made you choose one of the few dresses in your closet as your attire for the evening.

He's slipped your panties from your legs in record time, leaving you squirming atop the edge of the small island in the center of the room. It's obvious that he won't be gentle, not tonight, not when he's hard between your thighs a moment later, filling you in a swift motion that has you wondering when he managed to even unbutton his jeans. You bite into the soft flesh of his shoulder, holding in the scream that could alert the teenager upstairs about what's currently happening in the kitchen, but the sound crawls up your chest with each pound of his hips against yours.

"Quiet," he whispers harshly in your ear, an unnecessary command because a moment later he's devouring you again, the frantic movement of his lips against yours concealing any evidence that threatens to escape. It's fast, the way he's rutting into you, within you, driving you higher until you're no longer certain where he stops and you begin.

And then you notice it. You catch the way he's focused on something over your shoulder, but it isn't until he's lifted you from the counter and carried you effortlessly across the room that your mind begins to process.

Ellie's earlier question slips from your mouth when he settles you in his lap, your knees braced against the wood on either side of his hips. "Thought this was for Tommy," you grit out when he guides your hips against his own, the chair rocking back in a way that leaves you feeling off balance. "I thought it was for the ba..."

He cuts you off with a grunt, pulling you back down and holding you tightly against him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He's strangely silent, his movements slowing to nothing even as the chair continues to shift slowly back and forth beneath you. The only sound remaining is the heavy rhythm of your breath, your body relaxing further against his in a way that makes it impossible not to feel him everywhere.

"Hey," you ask, voice softer now, more at ease, because you know he'll hear you this time. "I saw the way you were looking at them, earlier." He says nothing as you trace your fingers along the greying stubble on his jaw and you wait to see if he'll answer you, even if you already know his answer to the question you haven't asked.

It wasn't a secret to anyone that Joel was struggling with the idea of his brother having a kid, but it left everyone treading a fine line between the eager new father and the man still plagued by the memories of his lost daughter. The prospect of new joys mirrored only by the multitude of moments stolen long, long ago.

So when Joel had brought up the idea of the rocking chair, it caught you off guard. Things had been understandably tense between the Miller brothers, but it felt to you like Joel was finally finding peace with the situation, the rocking chair serving as an olive branch. One that might just help repair the broken parts of their relationship. But now, wrapped up in his arms, you begin to realize that perhaps you've been reading it all wrong.

You smooth back his hair from his forehead, looking down at him, and you see it. It's not just the loss of Sarah he's mourning now. It's the loss of all of it.

So you do the only thing you can think of. You move.

The sound that escapes his lips as you lift from his lap can only be described as a growl, one that you can feel rumbling in his chest when you brace your hands against it. You're slow at first, letting his length drag along your walls until he's nearly slipped from your heat, and then you fall back down. Joel's hands slip beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it up along the expanse of your back as his fingers trail along your spine.

He pulls you closer then, his grip just as possessive as earlier, tugging you against him in a way that has you keening. You do your best to cling to reality, gripping the wood behind his head, nails digging into the surface as he continues to guide you. But when he tries to lift you from his lap, as he tries to proceed through the practiced motions that will leave him spilling across your stomach, you stop him.

"It's okay," you whisper against his ear, "let go."

For a moment he resists, his eyes clamping shut with the effort it takes to ward off his own climax as you continue to clench around him. But when you whisper it again, it's all the encouragement he needs. He finally snaps, pulling you somehow closer as he buries his length in your heat, the movement causing the chair that supports you both to rock back and forth gently as he fills you to the brim.

The air in the room feels different as you come back to earth, the two of you still nearly fully clothed as you perch atop his lap. He's softening inside you, the gentle feeling of his release trickling down your thigh and onto his jeans, but neither of you have the will to move aside from the way you gently rest your head against his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Joel asks a while after, the question sounding redundant as his hands run soothingly along your back.

You nod against him, pressing your lips to the spot where his shoulder meets his neck. "I'm sure. Although," you pause, pulling back, "I think you might need to make another chair for Tommy and Maria."

"And why would that be?" he questions in a way that, for the first time in weeks, makes you feel like the man you love is back.

"Because," you kiss him softly, "we're gonna need this one for us."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou sundays #lurking and writing

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daryltwdixon · 4 months ago

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Summary: fluffy, domestic grumpy Joel drabble—he finds you after a trail ride with Ellie, acting all huffy like you were gone for days instead of a few hours. But for all his grumbling, he can’t seem to keep his hands off you, sneaking in every touch he can while you untack your horse.

I had this dream last night and after getting done with my morning shift at the barn (yes im a tried and true horse girl) I had to get home to write it asap. I really hope you guys don't mind my random stream of consciousness fluff ideas because I don't plan on stopping

The sun was dipping behind the mountains when you and Ellie rode back into Jackson, the warm glow stretching long shadows across the main road. The ride had been good—brisk air, the scent of pine, the rhythmic drum of hooves against the dirt. Ellie had been chatty, as always, rambling about how she totally could’ve shot that deer quicker if you’d just let her.

You laughed, nudging your horse forward as the gates swung open, and right there—like he had been waiting, though he’d never admit it—was Joel.

His arms were crossed, his mouth set in that usual line of perpetual disapproval, but the second his eyes landed on you, something softened. It was quick, a flash of warmth before he scowled at Ellie instead. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

Ellie huffed as she swung off her horse. “We weren’t exactly in a hurry, old man.”

“Obviously,” he muttered, though his gaze flicked back to you, sweeping over you like he was checking for any sign of trouble.

You grinned as you slid off your horse, your boots hitting the ground. Before you could even brush the dust off your pants, Joel was there, his hands bracketing your waist as he pulled you in. His lips pressed firm against yours, warm, familiar, and entirely unapologetic despite the fact that Ellie was loudly gagging in the background.

“Oh my God, can you guys not?” she groaned, dragging her horse toward the stables.

Joel ignored her, his thumb tracing along your cheek as he reluctantly pulled away, his voice gruff but low just for you. “Go get cleaned up. I got the horse.”

You tilted your head at him with a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “I'm perfectly capable to untack my own horse,”

Joel exhaled through his nose, already shaking his head. “Never said you weren't.”

“But I want to.” You met his gaze, steady and unwavering, knowing exactly how this would go.

He held your stare, jaw ticking, that stubborn streak flaring like he was about to tell you to get your ass home. But you saw it—the way his resolve crumbled almost immediately. Joel never really fought you on anything, not when you looked at him like that, not when he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

With a sigh, he muttered, “Stubborn woman,” before stepping back and nodding toward the stable. “Fine. But you brush 'em down. My back ain't gonna put up with that tonight.”

You beamed, looping your arm through his as you led your horse inside, and though he grumbled about how he was too old for this, you saw the way his fingers lingered against yours, like he had missed you the entire time you were gone.

The scent of hay and leather wrapped around you like something familiar and safe as you entered the stables with your horse in tow. Ellie was already tending to Shimmer, loudly talking about how next time she’d take you to a cool spot by the creek she found, but you weren’t paying her much mind. Joel was right behind you, keeping close, as if he still wasn’t convinced you’d made it back in one piece.

You pulled your saddle off and hoisted it over the railing, rolling your shoulders to ease the weight. Joel moved beside you, unclipping the bridle from your horse, his touch careful as he slipped the worn leather over her ears. “Good boy,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a rough palm against the gelding’s neck. His hand brushed against yours as he stepped past, slow and deliberate, like he was making sure you felt it.

It was such a small touch, but it sent warmth curling up your spine.

“You do the brushin',” he murmured, voice low beside you. “I’ll put this away.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Delegating, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, deadpan, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Gotta keep you in line somehow.”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Oh, that’s what this is? You think you’re in charge?”

Joel gave a low huff, shaking his head as he passed behind you, his hand dragging slow along your waist. “Ain’t no thinkin’ about it, sweetheart.”

You smirked, brushing your horse with a little extra purpose. “Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, Miller.”

That earned you a sharp look, but it didn’t have a single ounce of bite. He moved past you, close enough that his palm landed at your lower back, just for a moment, a quick press of warmth before he was gone. Always touching, always making sure you were there, close enough to reach.

You picked up the brush and started working through your horse’s coat, sweeping in long, even strokes while it grazed on its hay. Joel returned a moment later, settling in the stall, already working the leather cleaner into the seat of the saddle on the railing. But every time you passed near him—every time you shifted to reach another spot—his hands found you. A steadying palm on your hip. A slow drag along the small of your back. Fingers curling at your elbow, thumb smoothing over the inside of your wrist. You wondered if he was even trying to help or just wanted to stare.

“Y’know,” you mused, keeping your tone casual even as heat bloomed under every touch, “you could help.”

“I am helpin’,” he said, completely serious. “Cleanin' yer damn tack. Supervisin’.”

You shot him a look. “Uh-huh.”

Joel exhaled a slow breath, like you were really putting him through it, and finally relented. He stepped behind you, so close his chest pressed against your back as he reached around you to grab another brush. Instead of moving away, he stayed there, caging you in with warm, steady hands.

“Like this,” he murmured, guiding your hand with his own, their weight pressing down together against the horse’s coat.

You swallowed hard, heart knocking against your ribs. “You think I don’t know how to brush a horse, Miller?”

He smirked, his breath warm against the side of your face. “Just makin’ sure.”

You scoffed, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to. He was teasing you, but you could feel the way he lingered, the way he soaked up every second of being this close, like he’d been waiting for it.

Ellie made a disgusted noise from across the aisle. “Are you guys seriously flirting while brushing a horse?”

Joel barely even glanced her way. “Go home, Ellie.”

She groaned, muttering something about old people being gross as she grabbed her stuff and left. But you barely noticed. Joel’s hand was still over yours, fingers brushing slow circles into your skin, like he had no intention of letting go.

“You miss me that much?” you teased, leaning into him just a little.

Joel grunted, pressing a kiss against the top of your head before stepping away to put the brush back. “Every damn minute.”

Your stomach flipped at that, at the gruff honesty of it, no hesitation in his voice. You watched as he opened the stall door, letting your horse into the pasture for the night, his movements slow, easy—so at home here, so at home with you.

When he turned back, his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you gently from the stall. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Let’s go eat.”

You exhaled with a smile, warmth curling through your chest. “Fine. I’m starved.” You hesitated for just a second, then reached for his hand, fingers slotting between his as you squeezed. “And, Joel?”

He glanced down at you, his grip instinctively tightening. “Yeah?”

Your smile turned softer, quieter. “I missed you too.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but his hand slid from your waist up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to lean into you. He kissed you slow, deliberate—like it wasn’t enough to just hear it, like he needed you to feel it. Needed to remind you, in the only way he really knew how, just how much you meant to him.

Joel Miller was never a man of many words, but the way he held you, the way he kissed you in moments like this...it said more than words ever could.

#Joel miller #Joel miller fluff #Joel miller tlou #Jackson joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou joel #Joel tlou #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x you #Joel miller fluffy #im just a horse girl with horse girl dreams #I love good dreams like this omfg

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nineteenninety-six · 2 months ago

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── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Midnight Coffee

Pairing: John Shen x wife!doctor!Reader

AN: This is for all my Dr Shen truthers out there! Reader works in the morgue and is a doctor but I'm totally clueless about the nitty-gritty details so I left it vague. I did want to expand and write more but I was desperate to post this.

WC: 839

Warnings: Hospital inaccuracies, mentions on dead bodies and the results of Pittfest.

Synopsis: You take a much needed breather with your husband.

You were used to death. It was your job. Day in day out you saw and worked with death but today took a lot from you. The sheer amount of people who died brutally and scared for no other reason other than the selfish actions of a man.

You were drowning in the morgue, it was non stop for hours for you and your colleague, David, your turn that night after the ED and surgery had their chaos earlier that evening. There was a lull, a brief respite where you should relax back into a chair, close your eyes to relieve them from the strain and flex and rest your aching hands.

David watches you from their position across the table, they had arrived much later than you did and so you did a lot of work alone, which was something you did often enough but today was not an ordinary day.

"Take a breather" David tells you, "Fifteen-twenty minutes. Get a coffee and some fresh air."

You considered saying no but you honestly knew that you needed a break and so you nod, murmuring a 'thank you' as you push yourself up with a soft groan.

You grab yourself some shitty staffroom coffee before you walk to the ambulance bay and lift yourself up on the brick wall, letting your feet dangle freely. You smile as the cool breeze washes over you, it was stuffy in the morgue so this was a blessing.

Your smile quickly drops once you sip your shitty coffee.

"Hey"

You look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of your husband approaching you with an iced coffee and his hoodie.

"You're a sight for sore eyes" The sweet smile on your face is the one that is reserved only for your husband.

"Yeah?" John hands you the dunkin' iced coffee as he stands between your spread legs. "I hope you're always happy to see me."

"I am." You hum around your straw before the warmth of his hoodie envelopes you making you shiver in pleasure,"But with today... I really am glad to see your face."

John places his hands on your thighs, giving them a squeeze as he hums in agreement, "How long do you have?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes" You check your watch, "You?"

"Ellis will come running if I'm needed"

"Not very attending like behaviour Dr Shen" You tease, "I'm telling Gloria first thing."

"Maybe she'll fire me and I can finally become a house husband."

"Not with that attending money you're making you're not" You scoff.

"So you're telling me you only married me for my money" John jokes.

"Yeah" You laugh, "Let's just forget the last ten years we've spent together and the fact you only became an attending three months ago."

"Can't believe we've been together for ten years" John pressed closer to you," How many more will you put up with me for?"

You wrap your arms around his neck, "At least for another five years but honestly... forever. I want to be by your side forever."

John pulls you into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling you deeper in love with him.

"And what about becoming Dr Shen?" John asks .

"I'm already married to you, you don't have to beg me anymore."

John laughs "First of all, I did not beg you. If I remember correctly, you enthusiastically said yes. Screamed it even. Besides, you know what I'm talking about."

"Sorry babe" You pull back slightly so you can look him in the eye. "I like my last name plenty enough and there's only enough space for one Dr Shen in this hospital."

"Is that a compliment?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

John rolls his eyes at your non-answer but this was a common light hearted back and forth between you, it was just a form of teasing and flirting for you two.

Your watch buzzes signalling the end of your break and you sign disappointedly. You took a couple more desperate mouthfuls of the iced coffee before returning it to John, not being allowed to bring a drink down to the morgue, along with his jumper before jumping off of the brick ledge you perched yourself on.

"Alright, I've got to go but I'll see you at the end of the shift."

"You think you'll be done by then?" John asks as he walks you to the elevator.

You shrugged, "No clue but Gloria has already given so much overtime tonight, I hardly doubt she will allow or approve anymore lest we lose ten nurses in return."

As the elevator reached their floor, you pulled John in a grounding comforting hug that will help you power through the rest of your day.

"I love you," You murmured into his chest, "So much."

"I love you too" John presses a soft kiss to your lips, "More than you can imagine."

You step away and into the elevator, pressing your floor and you wave at John until the doors close in front of you.

#dr shen x reader #john shen x reader #dr shen #the pitt x reader #the pitt #x reader #john shen

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undressrehearsal · 1 year ago

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dare to fuck this up

summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing

a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance

part 1

You hadn't talked about it.

You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch.

You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you?

The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet.

That had been three weeks ago.

For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice.

At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach.

Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked.

And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her.

Fine.

If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her.

Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks.

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder.

“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.

So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air.

“What the hell are you-”

You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor.

She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor.

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered.

So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”

And the game began.

Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped.

Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”

She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it.

“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?”

And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs.

You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.”

Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure.

You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup.

It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway.

Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed.

Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.”

You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger.

Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.”

You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake.

The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably.

“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die.

There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut.

You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye.

You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated.

You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy.

You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.”

“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.”

You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something.

Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly -

Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.”

When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away.

This was definitely Hell. It had to be.

When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste.

When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things.

Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief.

“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago.

But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.”

So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention.

So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.”

“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again.

You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.”

“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose.

You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.”

You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.”

You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.”

Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?”

Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.”

You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’”

You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!”

You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.

Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again.

And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth.

For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”)

And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened.

But the clock kept ticking.

After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”

“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.”

Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you.

“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?”

She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh.

Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth.

And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.”

A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering.

Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-”

You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it.

But this was too important to ignore.

“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth.

Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.”

Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.”

And it was the lack of care that broke you.

You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?”

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?”

“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?”

Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart.

It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.”

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?”

“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.”

And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.”

You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft.

“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?”

Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers.

“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away.

“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.

Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-”

“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”

She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.”

“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.”

She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.”

Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.”

Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.”

You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek.

“What do we do now?”

When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.”

Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….”

“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin.

You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”

“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?”

You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream.

Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her.

Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart.

The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out.

It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head.

Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.”

She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.”

You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin.

“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there. You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.”

You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?”

Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.”

When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan.

Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.”

She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise.

You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck.

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.”

You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the implication of that either.

Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.”

Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her.

This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue.

But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face.

“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you.

If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.

Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips.

You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it.

You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel.

You loved revenge.

But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile.

So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.

When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst.

Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants.

When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster.

The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?”

Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise.

Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple.

You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit.

The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged.

Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together.

You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place.

You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer?

A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed.

You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.”

You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world.

You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely.

She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off.

“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans.

You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth.

Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg.

Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you.

“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.”

“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.”

“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….”

You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness.

“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.”

Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers.

“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.”

She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?”

You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you.

“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.”

She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear.

Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly.

It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips.

When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart.

Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now?

Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.”

Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before.

Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?”

You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou 2 x reader #sorry for the novel #hope u enjoyed #smash that like button idk

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applejusue · 1 month ago

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Can I request a reader elille fic where reader is struggling mentally like she has bills to pay and is broke and just feels like she is failing at everything she trys but Ellie is there to reassure her and be her rock because that's how I'm feeling right now and I need heart warming fluff and comfort I feel broken

I'm sorry to hear that honey. I definitely understand I'm going through a similar patch right now. In fact, I actually based the later half of this scenario on what happened to me last week so please don't feel alone. -`♡´-

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁˙🧷 ̟ ! .ᐟ toothache

tldr; it feels like you're drowning in bills, little did you know your girlfriend has been chipping in wherever she can

`# cw: stress, money struggles, comfort, fluff

࣪𖤐.ᐟ ── psst! #tlou

Getting paid didn't even feel like a relief anymore, not when it barely managed to settle into your account before your bills ate away like termites. You felt drained, from the long hours and the fact that you could barely hold down this apartment, let alone afford groceries. You didn't want much, just some sort of security and cereal that wasn't from the clearance section.

You'd only started seeing Ellie recently, it didn't feel right to talk to her about it. She still bunked with Joel, trying to save up her cash. She worked on and off on farms, construction sites, and anywhere that would hand her some notes for a few hours of labour. Ellie just seemed so.. casual about it. You supposed if you had somewhere to stay, to be without constantly watching your balance then maybe you'd be casual too. But you knew you weren't being fair, her life wasn't all sunshine either.

Even if you didn't think Ellie noticed the way you hesitated when you two were at the mall or when she suggested going for ice cream, she did. It's why she always made some bullshit excuse to get up and use the bathroom while you were at a diner so she could pay the waitress under the counter before you even had a chance to try and argue with her about splitting the cheque. It's why Ellie insisted on going with you to the grocery store even though in your mind that was the most boring quest in the world, somehow convincing you that it made sense for her to chip in because:

"Well, I crash at your place every other night so these are basically my groceries too.."

Ellie never wanted to make you feel like you weren't independent, she knew damn well that you could handle yourself. The thing was though, she also wanted to handle you. She wanted to take care of you, but she was also afraid of overstepping that line and making you feel ashamed. Ellie could see how irritable you were lately, not at her but in general. You were lost in thought, staring at labels too long to ultimately just put them back on the shelf. It broke her damn heart.

You were currently trudging up the stairs to your place, your heart felt like it was beating inside of your head. You'd just been to the dentist, a 'check-up' on your perfectly fine teeth, that should've merely cost you 25$ to cover the consultation. When the receptionist gave you the bill you could barely even process it, let alone find it in you to pay it. 140 dollars. For what? A bunch of extra shit the kind lady had done to your mouth without feeling the need to mention that oh yes, this will cost you more.

You were annoyed at her, annoyed at yourself for being so stupid, annoyed at the fact that you even paid the f-

"Hey, baby.. how'd it go?"

Ellie greeted you when you pushed open the door with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. Her eyes were warm, they always were when she looked at you. Her freckled face had a smile, though it faded when she noticed how red your face was, and how tightly you were holding your phone. Her words were so simple, and you could think of a million answers. I got scammed. That fucking bitch overcharged me. I don't know if I can afford rent this month.

But none of that left your lips. Instead that simple, 'how'd it go?', was what made it all gush out like sand. Ellie stood abruptly as she watched the tears start to spill down your cheeks, inwardly awkward that she'd read this situation wrong. She wasn't the best at talking to people, let alone comforting someone but when it came to you she tried her damn hardest.

"Shit.. baby, don't tell me she pulled out one of your pretty teeth.."

Ellie took your face into her hands, her thumbs pressing open your lips in an attempt to lighten your mood just a little. She also used it as an excuse to rub those tears from your cheeks, her dark eyes furrowed in concern. You learned early on that Ellie didn't make jokes or try and be funny when you were upset to downplay what you were feeling, but because she couldn't bear to see you cry.

She pulled you in close to her chest, your face immediately pressing into the soft fabric of her hoodie. Ellie always smelled like cheap cologne and a hint of sweat that was so distinctly her you could often smell it in your dreams. Her hand moved into your hair, trailing down your scalp as her fingers twitched anxiously.

"They all seem to be intact.. so what's the matter babygirl?"

Her voice was a hushed, more serious whisper now against your head as she pressed a gentle kiss against your crown. Your sobs were still coming heavy, you were just so angry, so stressed all the damn time. It took a few moments of just being swayed by the taller girl until you could finally choke out a response.

"I just can't-.. can't afford it, any of it.."

Your tears stained the grey material against her chest, your arms tightening around her long waist as your brows furrowed in a mixture of sadness and frustration.

"Can't even go to the damn dentist without losing half of my paycheck.."

You huffed, your irritation softening just slightly. You'd kept this packed up so tight for so long. It felt good to tell her. It just made Ellie want to hold you closer. She guided you to the sofa and onto her lap, cradling you against her chest. It made her feel calmer too, to be holding on when you were upset. She couldn't stand that someone would take advantage of you like that.

"I know it's tough.. you're too damn pretty to be working so much.."

Her voice was soft, almost a little frustrated herself. She hated seeing you like this, stuck in a shitty job that barely paid you. Things weren't cheap these days either, if you don't got a trust fund in this economy you're shot in the foot before you can even learn to walk. You had calmed down a little, her attempts at lightening your mood taking the edge off your pain though only slightly.

"Baby, you know I'll always take care of you.. You've always got a place with me if things get tough.."

She muttered against your hair, her cold hands rubbing up and down your arm to soothe you as best she could manage. It didn't matter what Ellie had, she'd share it with you always. Whether that be her twin-sized mattress in Joel's place, her clothes, hell she'd even give you her piggy bank if it made a damn difference.

"We're gonna get through it.. together, it isn't gonna stay like this.."

Her soft voice was doing wonders, even if you knew there were still bills to pay and deadlines you'd need to meet. Ellie made you feel like the world wasn't going to end tomorrow, or the day after. For the first time in a while you felt like you could breathe, atleast for now. You nuzzled into her chest with a soft sigh, slowly looking up at her with a timid smile.

"Do my teeth atleast look good?"

Your murmured half-heartedly, a soft huff leaving your lips.

"They're beautiful.."

Ellie chuckled softly, taking your jaw with her hand and looking over your smile. She then leaned down, kissing your lips gently as her hand trailed to your hair, letting you rest closer to her. Between breaths, she murmured:

"I'll get you that refund tomorrow even if it takes getting kicked out of a damn dental clinic.."

#── ♰ AJ × fics #── ♰ AJ × anon #wlw #wlw love #wlw fanfic #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #lesbian #angst #tlou #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff

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lostbookmark · 2 months ago

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MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence, Gore (Horror Movie), Smoking, Use Of Word Slut. Grieving

With your tongue poking out of your mouth in concentration, you press the blue painters tape along the ceiling with as much precision as possible. Your mother had agreed to let Nicky paint his room, but of course, she had to have the final say. She quickly vetoed the colors that she didn't like. Dark blues and black were pushed aside as she gave him the options of Serene Green and Pastel Yellow. Needless to say, Serene Green was the winner. It wasn't awful. Nope. In fact, you actually like the color, but it didn't exactly scream that a teenager lived there. You don't think that he cares, though. It was just nice to see his room start to come to life.

“These brushes are nice,” you dad says from the step ladder as he paints a perfect line just under your tape. His hand was completely steady, and he probably didn't even need you to tape off the room. “Where did you get these?”

“Oh, one of your new potential vendors gave me some,” you say casually, causing your parents to give you a look. “What?”

“He just gave them to you?” Your mom asks. “He should have given them to your father or even Elly for that matter.”

“Well, maybe, I might have flirted a little bit with him,” you admit. “But look, it got us some good brushes.”

“Do you think you could flirt for some rollers?” Your dad asks jokingly, making your mom throw a water bottle at him. “I'm kidding. Unless, she really can. The good ones are expensive.”

“You can't do that, Y/N,” your mom scolds. “You need to keep things professional at work. How do you think that makes you look? How that makes you father look?”

“She gets it from you,” your dad cuts in while still painting his perfect line of Serene Green.

“Absolutely not,” she disagrees.

“Should I recount the story of when we first met?” He asks, smiling over his shoulder at her. “I believe it was when I was working for my own father.”

Your mother gives him a look and walks out of the bedroom. You laugh, throwing down your blue tape roll and watch as it rolls across the room. Climbing down your own ladder, you sit on Nicky's bed that was moved to the center of the bedroom. “Don't let her get to you. She means well.”

“I'm not so sure,” you say, watching him as he climbs down and approaches you.

“How are you doing, kiddo? Do you need any money? Food?” He asks, squatting in front of you. “You two aren't going hungry, right?”

“No, things have been good?” You say, giving him a small smile.

“Just give her some time, kiddo,” he says. “Things are hard for everyone. Emotions are really high, but you know that I won't let anything happen. Nicky isn't going anywhere.”

“I know,” you agree.

“Just try to keep some sort of peace between the two of you.” he tells you. “I know you two haven't really ever gotten along over the years, but she loves you. After what happened to you…”

“When will the room be done?” You ask, changing the subject. “I think Chris and Elly are bringing him back in a couple of hours. I would like to have everything done and the room put back together by then.”

“Yeah,” your dad says quietly as he studies you sadly. “We’ll get it done.”

You walk to the opposite side of the room, grabbing a paint roller to distract you. You don't like to talk about your past. If you don't talk about it, then you can almost pretend like it never happened. You watch as the roller spreads the green paint across the wall. Up and down, you drag it over the smooth surface repeatedly, covering any blotchiness that you created.

Up and down.

Up and down, as if everything was perfectly fine.

Up and down.

Nothing was all right.

Up, down and repeat.

Ignore and pretend.

Repeat.

You pick the stubborn green paint from out underneath your fingernails as you sit on the bleachers waiting for practice to start. Nicky, with as much enthusiasm as a teenage boy could muster, he thanked everyone for painting his room when he saw it. That night, you two sat down, ordering him shelves and an entertainment center that he liked. You told him that the choice was his to unpack his things or you could go shopping to decorate his room with brand new things. He asked to think about it. You hope he chooses his things that were boxed up in his closet. Things that once brought him comfort and held happy memories. You don't want him to be scared of those memories. Memories of his mom and dad. Memories that you don’t want him to forget. That was the last thing you wanted.

Giving up on your nails, you yawn. For once, you were one of the first adults in the gym, and it was boring. You'll have to make sure that it never happens again. Resting your elbow on your knee, you place your chin in your hand. You contemplate closing your eyes when the door opens loudly and both coaches walk in. You watch as Coach Min gives you a double take before looking down at his watch. Raising an eyebrow at you, he nods in satisfaction that you were actually there before him. You roll your eyes in response, making him laugh silently. You're so happy that you amused him. At least one of you was amused. All you were was tired.

“We need to decide where to meet for dinner tonight,” Ara speaks up during the middle of practice. “Any suggestions?”

“LUXE EAST,” a mom that you don't care to learn her name suggests. “They have the best wine choices.”

“That's probably too expensive for….some,” Ara says, and you can feel their stares turn to look at you.

“Ara,” Mark says warningly as he makes eye contact with you.

“What? I'm just trying to be thoughtful,” she says innocently. “Maybe we should stick to McDonald's.”

“You can take your fake concern and shove it,” you say, looking over your shoulder at her trying to act unbothered. “I'm not going anywhere with you anyway.”

“You have to,” she smirks. “It's a part of your responsibility as a parent on our team.”

“It's when we decide who's in charge of getting signs made, t-shirts made. You know, things like that,” Mark explains.

Mark was nice. You didn't want to be a bitch to him. Instead, you completely turn away from him and look at the group of women behind you. You wonder if they ever heard the word no before. You doubt it. Their aura screams spoiled. You are sure that they were the type of woman who always got what they wanted.

“I'd rather pull my eyelashes out one by one than go anywhere with you,” you say, standing up and giving her a fake smile. “Go team!”

Walking down the steps of the bleachers, you step onto the floor and head for the door. Well, you attempted to, that is. Coach Min's arm shot out, almost hitting you with his clipboard, stopping your escape.

“Where are you going?” He asks, eyes never leaving the boys on the court.

“Bathroom. Is that alright with you?” You ask, sarcastically. “Do I need a hall pass?”

He doesn't answer as he drops his arm, letting you pass by. Continuing on, you leave the gym and walk down the hall a little ways until you come to the girls' bathroom. Looking around, you notice frosted windows above a small ledge. You smile, climbing up on the counter, and you hold your breath as you pop the window open. You freeze for a moment, waiting to see if you set an alarm off. Thankfully, there was nothing.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a singular cigarette and lighter. You haven't smoked in years. You had carried the little cancer stick around as a reminder that you were stronger than the bad habit. You were stronger now than your past self, but every now and then, you doubt yourself and your strength. Even though you don't show it, you have your limits, and right now, you are way past them. Maybe Ara and the others that pushed you into caving in. Maybe it was the conversation with your dad. Maybe you were never strong, like you thought.

Fuck it!

Bringing the cigarette to your lips, you light it, inhaling the disgusting chemicals that burn your lungs as you breathe it in. Turning your head toward the window, you blow out the smoke, trying not to cough. You're disappointed. You're not sure what you were hoping to feel, but the cigarette did not give it to you. Maybe you were hoping for a rush of dopamine. Maybe you were looking for a sense of calm and peace, but you got nothing. You still feel tense. You still feel weighed down. The nightmares will still be there when you close your eyes at night. Everything is exactly the same. Except now, you probably smell like an ashtray.

You don't bother with another puff. Snuffing the cigarette out, you close the window and hope down off the counter. Flushing the evidence, you walk back into the gym like nothing happened.

Sitting further away from the group, you take your earlier position. Elbow on knee, chin in hand, you wait. You wait, like you have been waiting almost every day since Nicky came into your life full time. You need to learn to have patience because waiting felt like torture. Maybe your mom was right all along. Maybe you weren't equipped to handle this type of life. The mom life. You need to change. Unfortunately, you don't know how to change, but you need to figure it out.

Fast.

“What's the temperature you need to store hot food at?” Coach Min throws at you as you remain unmoving, waiting for your nephew as practice ends and everyone filters out of the gym.

“220 degrees,” you answer automatically, looking up at him as he looms over you, looking down at you.

It was a lie. You didn't know the answer, but you sure answered him with as much confidence as you could muster. He stares at you through narrowed eyes, scrutinizing your answer. You are sure he knows that you have yet to look over the paper he gave you on food safety practices.

“You don't know, do you?” He asks, calling your bluff and confirming what you thought.

“If that's wrong, then what's the answer?” You ask back. He chuckles and looks away from you. This time, you were the one to narrow your eyes as you study him. Standing up from your seat, you stare at him with astonishment. “You don't know either,” you accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“Of course I do,” he scoffs, crossing those arms of his. “I've been doing this for years.”

“Then what is it?” You ask, mimicking his stance.

“It's…..in the paper I gave you so you better learn it,” he answers and walks away from you. You shake your head as you watch him walk away and pat Nicky on the back as he passes him.

That motherfu…..chucker!

A/C is not working. Bring extra water.

Damn. The text that came through the team app did not lie. The gym was hot and stuffy as you entered through the double doors. A wall of heat from inside almost stops you in your tracks as it hits you in the face, wanting to tempt you into running your ass back to your car.

It just felt gross.

Nicky waves at you from where he was stretching on the court. You raise the water bottle in your hand in the air, indicating that you bought him an extra one. He points to his belongings sitting on an empty set of bleachers. You nod, walking over. You find his things easily and place his extra water down before joining the parents.

It's gotten easier the last few practices. Coming here almost every day is still just as awful, but keeping your head down and not paying attention to certain people made the time more bearable. It helps that you have been bringing your earbuds to drown out their yapping mouths, but unfortunately, today, you were in too big of a hurry to change. You forgot to grab them. Instead of an audio book or music, you had to listen to the squeaking shoes, whistles, and the yapping of the mothers mouths. Today, you just try to focus on the boys doing…whatever it was that they were doing, but the yappers wouldn't shut up.

“I need a new formal dress,” one of them says. “Hubby and I have dinner with his idiot boss next weekend.”

“At least you're able to get a new one. My husband says I have too many dresses that I don't need another one,” a new voice chimes in. “How ridiculous is that? He can buy a new boat, but I can't have a new dress.”

Dear god, you think as you roll your eyes. You wish those were the only problems you had.

“There's plenty of shops you can go to. Just don't shop where she does,” your shoulders stiffen as you fight the urge to turn around. You just know that the comment was directed at you. “Hey, you.”

“What?” You question, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at them.

“You should go and change,” Ara tells you.

You look down at yourself. You didn’t think the pair of cut-off shorts and a black and white striped tank top that you were wearing would be considered inappropriate. Your ass wasn't hanging out, and your boobs were where they belonged. If she thought this was bad, then she was faint if she saw what else you had in your closet.

“If your son can't keep his eyes to himself, then maybe you should teach him better,” you snap at her as you finally look at her. She, as always, was wearing too much makeup. You hoped that she would sweat it off and look like a drowned rat by the end of practice. “That's your problem, not mine.”

“Well if you didn't dress like a slut to begin with then we wouldn't have a problem,” Ara tells you with a sharp look. Her scowls have become harsher since you refused to go to the meeting with them, but nothing was ever said to you.

“What did you call me,” you demand ever so calmly, fully turning your body around to look at her.

“You heard me,” she smirks as her glossy lips shine under the gym lights.

“Say it again,” you say, standing up, but it only makes her laugh. “FUCKING SAY IT AGAIN BITCH!.”

“WHOA!” Coach Min says, blowing his whistle as he turns swiftly to see what the commotion was. “Get down here now.”

You don't listen as your eyes continue to zero in on Ara, your number one enemy at the moment. You don't plan on backing down. Ara's glossy little smile drops as she studies you when she realizes that you're not backing down. Good. Very good. You haven't fought anyone since high school, but you're sure you still have what it takes to kick her ass.

“Fucking say it again,” you growl, getting closer into her space, making her back up in her seat.

Yup, you still got it.

“Y/N, get down here now,” Coach Min demands, but again, you don't pay him any mind. Footsteps ascend the wooden stairs, and a hand grabs your arm, trying to pull you away. “Now.” You shake him off and follow him down the bleachers. “Three practice suspension,” he tells you as he points to the doors.

“I thought they needed a guardian here at all times,” you say smartly, testing his patience.

“Do you want to make it 6?” He asks, eyes hard as he studies you.

You look over to Nicky, who, like the rest of the boys, was watching the commotion that you were a part of. You shouldn't make such a scene in front of him. Squinting your eyes in a glare, you turn from him to head for the doors. However, before your feet actually were able to take off, you looked back at the smug woman, whose smirk was right back on her face. Staring directly at her, you flip her off with your hand held high for everyone to see.

“Jesus christ,” you hear Coach Min mutter.

Stomping out of the gym, you walk back to your car, slamming your door loudly after you climb in. Swearing at the top of your lungs, you hit the steering wheel with the heel of your hand. You can feel the burning of tears start to well behind your eyes. Rubbing them harshly, you stop them before they fully form. With a deep breath to calm your rapidly beating heart, you lean forward, pressing your forehead against the steering wheel, you exhale. 1….2….3… you slowly count as you focus on the rising of your chest. 4…5…6… Finally, you can feel your heart rate slow.

Your whole life, you were a wild child. Your brothers were steller students, great athletes, and never had detention. You, on the other hand, practically lived there. You never talked back to teachers, but boy, did the other students piss you off. You weren't one to back down when someone was running their mouth about you. Maybe you did it for attention. Your parents were always busy going into your teen years. Supporting you and your siblings plus Nicky and your sister-in-law, it was a lot. They both worked a lot, and their time at home was stretched thin with all the responsibilities in the household.

Unfortunately, you never really grew out of the rebelliousness. You were responsible around Nicky when you were with him, but otherwise, you didn't care. Skipping school, sneaking out, all became routine for you. Your self-esteem wasn't the best and sought attention from the wrong type of men as you grew older. Men, who would frequent the shady little bar you worked at. Who knew all the right things to say to draw in and make you fall in love with them. You fell for it every time, and every time you paid the price.

You were angry. You were angry when they would call you names. They made you feel bad and tore you down. You couldn't fight back. You tried once, and it didn't work out so well. You promised yourself that you would never let anyone make you feel like again. Make you feel insecure, weak. Make you feel like you were always…..wrong. You close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong. You shake your head slightly. You didn't do anything. Nope, you didn't do anything wrong. You stood up for yourself like anyone would. You didn't do anything wrong back then, and you didn't do anything wrong now. You hope that if you keep repeating it, you might actually start to believe it.

The car door opening has you looking over at Nicky from where you lay your head on the headrest of your seat. You let him throw his bag in the back seat and buckle himself in before you speak.

“I'm sorry,” you tell him softly. “I'm sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“I know what she called you. All the moms were laughing about it,” he tells you. “It's not fair that you got into trouble, but they don't.”

“I know,” you agree, nodding your head.

“I don't want to come back tomorrow,” he says, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I don't even like playing with half of them. Especially her son, he's a shithead.”

“Watch it! You can't quit,” you say, shaking your head at him. “Isn't like the number one rule for these things? You can’t let your team down. What's that saying? Never give up, never….something.”

“Coach is headed this way,” he tells you, and you follow his line of sight out the windshield. Everything in you hardens once more as you watch the blonde man make his way over to your car.

“The fuck he is,” you mutter under your breath.

You quickly start your car, throwing it in drive, taking off out of the parking lot with squealing tires. Absolutely not. There was no way you were going to talk to that man. If Nicky changes his mind about wanting to play, you'll have to send Chris or Elly to take your place. You know they would do it in a heartbeat, but as of right now…you're done.

《Chapter Four》

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dollveis · 3 months ago

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☆ ┆ SHE'S A LADY AND I'M JUST A LINE WITHOUT A HOOK. ellie williams — ❝ you can hold my hand if no one's home. ❞

CHAPTER 1 : you're a pond & i'm an ocean. trying to excuse yourself from dating rumors you end up saying ellie's name when someone asks you who you like.

quick navigation .ᐟ series masterlist ⋆ next chapter

featuring. college!ellie x afab!reader content warning ! loser!ellie x popular!student, reader referred to as she, reader gets paired with a man but shows no interest towards him, ellie being reallyyy a loser, she's also awkward, onesided interest, maybe fluff if you squint and mention of ellie wearing glasses.

❀ omg?? im finally releasing the first chapter for she's a lady frfr? took me long enough but here it is, this first chapter it's pretty simple maybe blank but we're in for a ride. IT'S ALSO PRETTY SHORT BUT I WANTED IT TO BE KIND OF AN INTRODUCTION

It's Monday, the morning is crisp, the sky sharp blue against the red brick buildings of Jackson College, students move in waves, chatting, sipping overpriced coffees to go through the morning, scrolling through their phones. The air hums with conversations about upcoming exams, weekend parties and the latest and juiciest campus gossip. It's the same routine every day— familiar, predictable. Everything has a rhythm.

You move through it effortlessly with iced coffee in your right hand, people greet you left and right, some call your name, other offer just quick nods of acknowledgement if like acknowledging your presence is a necessity, you return them with small gestures, a nod, a polite smile, nothing too personal. Your reputation proceeds you, the one with the grades, the friends, the effortless charm. You're used to being watched but never closely enough for it to matter.

You see your friends waiting near the main hall, where the weekly academic rankings have just been posted and you don't even need to see it to know that your name it's at the top, as always, not that it's a surprise.

Hana, who's been your best friend since freshman year, says, “let's see,” scanning the list closely, “and yep— there she is, of course. God, you're a machine.”

“Or a vampire,” Daniel adds, squinting at you with an inquisitive look, “i swear you don't sleep.”

You roll your eyes, “i sleep.”

“When?”

You don't answer, instead you look at the list again, your gaze flickering over some names below yours, the same handful of students hover in the top five, the rest of the names blurry to you, you don't recognize almost anyone but one further down, really further down catches your attention.

Ellie Williams.

You don't recognize it. A name that stands out but not the right reasons, her ranking is unimpressive, hovering dangerously close to the failing threshold, maybe that's why it sticks out for you, it's uncommon to see names that low when you're used to scanning only the top.

Either way, the thought is fleeting. You move on quickly.

────────────────────────

You think the morning will go by just as it usually does, boring and monotone but it doesn't. You don't even make it to lunch before people are talking, casual whispers between classes, side glances as you walk past. At first you ignore it, you're used to people speculating about your life, attaching stories to you that don't exist.

“She'd be perfect with him.”

“They match, at least academically.”

“She's doesn't date though.”

“But maybe now—”

The looks and curious humming in the background makes you grip your tray harder, trying your best to stay calm and chill. But then you run into him, Aaron Carter. You barely know him beyond the fact that he's one of the few people who can somewhat compete with you academically. He's tall, well dressed, in a dozen clubs and with an air of effortless confidence that makes people gravitate towards him. So obviously people expect you to be interested in someone like him.

You don't dislike him necessarily, but you're also not interested.

“Hey,” Aaron says as he falls into step beside you, trying to match your walk.

You glance at him, “hey.”

He smiles, his perfect white teeth showing, “sooo, interesting rumor going around.”

You contain yourself from rolling your eyes, sighing internally, “let me guess.”

He chuckles, “yeah, apparently we're dating now.”

You scoff, “we're not.”

“I figured,” he tucks his hands into his pockets, “but you know… it wouldn't be the worst thing,” he shrugs.

You stop walking, freezing, “excuse me?”

Aaron smirks like he knows exactly what he's doing, “relax. I'm just saying, people seem to think we'd make a good match. And honestly? they might have a point,” he shrugs.

You furrow your brows, “are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Maybe.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes for real this time, “unbelievable.”

“Hey, can't blame a guy for trying,” he says, amused, “but if you ever change your mind…”

“I won't.”

He grins, “noted.”

With that he walks off, leaving you more annoyed than before. By the time you reach your usual lunch spot your irritation must be obvious because Hana immediately raises an eyebrow.

“What happened?” she asks, leaning against the table with obvious interest.

“Aaron,” you say flatly.

Hana groans, “oh, God, don't tell me he believes the rumors.”

You stab at your salad, frustrated, “he suggested they might be a good idea.”

Daniel bursts out laughing, holding his stomach, “holy shit.”

Hana smirks, “did you crush his hopes and dreams?”

“As quickly as possible.”

Mia tilts her head, examining your expression, “he's smart, popular, good-looking. It makes sense, to be honest,” she nudges your arm, “not gonna lie, you'd be kind of a power couple.”

Daniel snickers, “you two probably have matching grade point averages. Academic royalty, a match made in GPA heaven.”

You groan, rubbing your temple as if you were trying to keep your cool, “i don't like him.”

“Then who do you like?” Mia asks, raising a brow.

The problem is you don't like anyone. Not in the way they expect, romance has never been a priority and you've never felt the pull that seems to drive everyone else. These comments are meant to be casual, just part of the teasing, of the typical campus gossip. But you know them, you know how this works, if you don't shut this down now, the rumor will only get worse, and by next week, half the campus will be convinced you and Aaron are planning a future together with two babies.

So you do what any rational person would do, you blurt out the first name that comes to mind.

“Ellie Williams.”

Silence.

You can feel them staring. Hana blinks. Daniel looks confused. Even Mia, for all her nosiness, seems momentarily thrown.

“... Who?”

Fuck.

You clear your throat, “Ellie Williams,” you repeat, like that somehow makes it better, “she's in our year.”

Mia stares at you like you've just announced you're dropping out of college to become a circus performer, “Ellie Williams,” she repeats slowly, as if testing the words on her tongue. You keep your expression neutral, but inside, you're already regretting your life choices.

Hana leans in closer, intrigued, “wait, how come you never mentioned her before?”

“Because it's none of your business,” you answer smoothly, picking at your salad like this conversation is beneath you.

Daniel, still looking baffled, scrolls through his phone, “i'm literally searching her up right now, i don't even know what she looks like,” panic flares in your chest, if he looks up her grades— he suddenly snaps his fingers, “oh! i think i know her. Quiet, kind of awkward? sits at the back in most lectures?”

Hana hums in thought, “the one with messy notes and the guitar case sometimes?” she stays quiet for a moment, “wait, is she the girl who nearly set the chem lab on fire last semester?”

You nearly choke on your drink. Great.

Mia nods, clearly enjoying this, “yeah, i remember that. Apparently she mixed up two compounds because she forgot her glasses.”

Daniel squints at you, “no offense, but… since when is that your type?”

You resist the urge to bury your face in your hands, “i don't have a type.”

Mia grins like a shark sensing blood, “oh, you do now.”

“Wait. That's actually kinda cute,” your best friend smirks, “i never thought you liked shy girls.”

You sigh, “can we please change the subject?”

Mia nudges your arm, “tell us more. Have you guys talked before? how'd you meet?”

You glance at the time on your phone, “would you look at that? class is in ten minutes. Gotta go,” you stand up, without even finishing your salad, grabbing your bag.

Daniel rolls his eyes, “that was the weakest escape attempt ever.”

You don't care. You just hope that Ellie Williams never hears about this.

But she does.

Ellie has had a crush on your months, not that she'd ever planned on doing anything about it. You exist in a world she doesn't belong to— too put-together, too untouchable, always surrounded by people who seem effortlessly in sync with you. Ellie, in contrast, struggles to remember her assignments, barely scrapes by on tests since she just draws stars in her notes, she owns exactly one backpack that she never closes properly and has exactly one friend (Jesse, who is much better at life than she is).

She likes watching you though, not in a creepy way. Just in the way someone watches a shooting star— distant, beautiful, something she'd never reach.

But today. Today you say her name.

Ellie is passing through the dining hall to go outside, too tired to deal with packed tables and loud conversations, when she hears it. Her name. In your voice. She stops. At first she thinks she's misheard. But then she sees your table— the reactions, the wide eyes, the disbelief. And it clicks, you just told everyone you like her. Her. Her eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights.

Ellie nearly drops her tray. She's not sure how she's gonna make it through the day without spontaneously combusting. When she reaches her usual table outside the cafeteria she can still hear your voice. She must be hallucinating. Maybe she fell asleep in class and this is just some fever dream but no. Jesse is sitting across from her, watching her with mild concern as she continues to stare blankly at her ham and cheese sandwich.

“Dude,” he finally says, “you look like you just saw a ghost.”

Ellie slowly turns to him, her brain still short circuiting, “i think she likes me.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow, “who?”

Ellie swallows, “her.”

He frowns, “you're gonna have to be a little more specific, man.”

The freckled girl runs a hand through her hair, exhaling, “Her. You know. Smart. Popular. Untouchable.”

It takes Jesse approximately three second to put it together. His eyes widen, “no way," Ellie nods and Jesse leans back, looking thoroughly amused, “okay, explain.”

So Ellie does. She tells him about overhearing your confession, about how your friends reacted, how it didn't seem like a joke— at least, not from what she could tell. The guy listens, nodding along. When she finishes, he lets out a low whistle, “damn. Didn't see that coming.”

“Yeah,” Ellie mutters, rubbing her temple.

Jesse watches her for a moment before grinning, “so… what's the problem? this is, like, your dream scenario.”

“No, it's not…” she groans, “i was fine just admiring her from a distance. What the hell am i supposed to do now?”

He shrugs, “go talk to her.”

Ellie stares at him, “what?"

"You like her, right?"

She hesitates, "yeah."

"And she just said she likes you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"So go talk to her."

Ellie crosses her arms and furrows her brows, "that’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard."

He snorts, "what, you want me to tell you to ignore it and hope it goes away?"

Ellie groans again, slumping in her seat, "i don’t know, man. She’s, like... way out of my league. I barely pass my classes. She’s literally the smartest person on campus."

Jesse rolls his eyes, “okay, first of all? shut up. Second, you won’t know if she’s actually into you unless you ask. What’s the worst that could happen?"

Ellie considers, "public humiliation?"

Jesse waves a hand casually, "happens to the best of us. You’ll survive."

She glares, "you’re the worst."

A grin, "nah. I’m the best. Now, go talk to your girlfriend."

Ellie groans one more time for good measure, and, against all better judgment, she heads off to find you after the classes end.

────────────────────────

You try not to think about it after lunch, hoping this whole situation would just be a day or maybe two, so you go about your day hoping to find some peace but when you're leaving the library, in the afternoon someone calls your name quietly when you're passing by the entrance.

Ellie is standing there, clearly waiting for you. You recognize her instantly— not only because of the photo on the board but because there's something about her that makes her stand out in a quiet way. A few freckles dusting her nose, auburn hair tied back messily, hands stuffed into the pockets of her hoodie, the way she won't quite meet your gaze. She looks… different, like something you're not used to, like she doesn't belong in the whirlwind of polished, high achieving students you surrounded yourself with Her posture is tense, shoulders slightly hunched, like she's half expecting you to tell her to get lost and yet, here she is.

“... Hi,” Ellie says. Her voice is lower than you expected, a little rough, a little nervous.

You raise an eyebrow, “hi.”

Ellie exhales sharply, like she's bracing herself, “uh, so—” she clears her throat, shifts on her feet, “i heard what you said at lunch.”

Your stomach tightens. Of course she did, you should've expected that. Still, hearing her say it out loud makes it feel… real. You tilt your head slightly, keeping your expression neutral, “oh.

The girl in front of you nods, she looks like she's about to pass out, “yeah and, uhm, i just—” she exhales, then forces the words out in one breath, “i like you too.”

Silence. For a second all you can do is stare at her. Something in her expression makes your stomach twist into knots, there's sincerity there but also uncertainty, like she doesn't quite believe the words coming out of her own mouth. She looks like she really means she likes you. Ellie looks alone, not in the obvious way, but in the way people look when they're used to being overlooked. And that makes you feel worse, the idea of rejecting her outright feels… wrong.

You tilt your head as you cross your arms and sigh, “look, Ellie…” she tenses like she's preparing for the worst, you choose your words carefully, “i'm not really into dating right now.”

Ellie blinks, “oh," it's quiet for a moment, you expect her to shrink back, maybe make some awkward excuse and leave, instead she just shifts her weight, scratching the back of her neck, “... that makes sense.”

Your eyes widen a bit, you watch her, “it does?”

“Yeah,” she mutters, “i mean— you're busy, and uh, probably have better options.”

Your brows furrow slightly once again, “that's not what i said.”

Ellie shrugs, but it's too casual, too practiced, “i know, just saying.”

You study her for a moment. She's defensive, not because she's mad, more like she expected rejection from the start and is just trying to act like it doesn't bother her and for someone reason that bothers you.

You sigh, “i wasn't lying, you know," Ellie finally meets your eyes directly, you hold her gaze, firm but not unkind, “i really don't wanna date anyone right now, i have a lot going on, it's not about you,” she nods but she looks she doesn't totally believe you. And that's it supposedly, you should walk away, that would be the smart thing to do but instead you pause and then add, “but… we could still talk.”

Ellie blinks, confused, surprised, “talk?”

You shrug, glancing away, “if you want. You don't seem like you have a lot of people to talk to.”

Ellie snorts, “wow. Thanks.”

A smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “am i wrong?”

She hesitates, “... no.”

You nod satisfied, “then it's settled," Ellie frowns slightly, like she doesn't quite understand how she got here but she doesn't argue and you take that as a win, “See you around, Williams,” you say before turning to leave and she watches you go, and despite everything, smiles to herself.

For some reason Ellie intrigues you, she's different. Not in the obvious i'm trying too hard be unique way but in the doesn't seem to care about fitting in way. She seems real, and maybe that's refreshing.

#⭑๋෨ she's a lady and i'm just a line without a hook.#ellie williams headcanons #ellie wiliams #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie williams imagine #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #tlou fanfiction #the last of us part 2

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